Bleach: The Thaumaturgy Revolution
by SvNOrigami
Summary: After Soul Society is attacked by a new and powerful being, Seireitei is in danger of being overwhelmed. Kurosaki Ichigo is sent to the past to find out how Aizen created this monstrosity, and how to stop it. But everything does not go according to plan..
1. Preface

Apologies for how confusing this is. I promise everything (almost) will be explained in Chapter1.

Please do not review until you've read the first actual chapter, since this is essentially the prose equivalent of a trailer :P

Warning: Spoliers! This is set towards the end of the Hueco Mundo arc of the Bleach anime, so if you have not seen up to there you might miss some aspects of it. However, you should be okay if you've seen up to the start of the Hueco Mundo arc (after Ichigo decides to go to Las Noches). Also, you will need to have read the whole Harry Potter series, or at least up to book five.

One more thing: It's rated T. That is subject to change, but only due to violence, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Harry Potter. Evidently.

Preface

SCENE ONE

Kurosaki Ichigo sighed as he followed Professor McGonagall into the Entrance Hall. This was all far too surreal. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but admire, along with his fellow first years, the glorious flagstones upon the floor and the exquisite marble staircases which loomed over him. The place was filled with noise from the surrounding rooms, however, which put him ill at ease. Why'd he have to be here in the first place, dammit? His old school was fine – what was this place, anyway? Such questions floated about in his head incessantly, but were pushed to the back of his mind in the face of more pressing matters. He was here now, and there was nothing he could do about it. ___Might as well make the most of it, I guess..._

Ichigo snapped out of his pensive state to find himself in a completely different room. This looked very much akin to a waiting room, albeit a medieval one. Unfortunately, though, it was far too small to accommodate its present occupants. Furthermore, the stern-looking woman was nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had missed something important. There were mutterings all around him of something called a "Sorting Hat", and "Houses" of some description, but he couldn't listen properly because of the incessant jostling... Frustrated, Ichigo released a little of his Reiatsu, causing his immediate neighbours to shy away. People always kept their distance when he released his power; as though they were afraid of being burned by it. One person, though, did not move an inch. ___This girl... Who is she? I-_

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?"

Ichigo's thoughts were disturbed by an outburst from the kid standing next to him. He watched silently as a ginger-haired boy replied

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but..."

The boy's voice was cut off as someone stepped in between him and Ichigo. He cursed under his breath, then decided he probably shouldn't have been listening in on their conversation anyway. He tried once more to recall exactly what it was he was supposed to be doing in this place, but yet again he could remember nothing. ___Nothing at all, it's like my mind has been wiped clean – what the hell is going on here? _He sighed again, and turned once more to the girl who had not moved when he released his power, but she had disappeared. Suddenly, something happened which made his blood run cold.

Behind him, people began to scream.

Ichigo snapped his head around, releasing as much of his Reiatsu as he dared, in preparation for an attack. What he saw, though, was not the carnage he had been expecting, but something quite different.

_Ghosts_.

Dozens of them had come, flowing through the wall as if it were made of air. One of them addressed the children, but Ichigo said nothing. He didn't hear what was being said, anyway. He was doing everything he could to restrain himself...

Trying desperately to keep from burying them. Something... Something inside him wanted with every fibre of its being to banish these unnatural beings to where they belonged, and it was all Ichigo could do to remain where he was. Nonetheless, he could not keep from trembling.

People quickly noticed this, and began to ask if he was all right. There were one or two who made jokes about people being afraid of ghosts. Ichigo ignored them all, and waited for the ghosts to leave. Amid the chaos, only one person truly understood what was going on in Ichigo's mind. She sighed to herself, and gently shook her head. ___Kurosaki-kun..._

The ensuing moments felt like a blur to Ichigo. Later, he would say that he vaguely remembered being led into a vast hall, grander even than the one which he had admired previously, and a song, sung bizarrely by a talking hat. Then began the aforementioned "Sorting". Ichigo felt a cold sweat come over him as this happened, but once more he shook it off. ___There's nothing here I can't handle. _The thought came and went in a fraction of a second, but it still shocked him greatly. Where had such confidence come from? Why did he, who had no idea whatsoever what was going on, feel so damned confident? However, his instincts appeared to be correct, as the process seemed to entail nothing more than trying on the talking hat, and it subsequently yelling out the name of one of the houses. The only trouble, Ichigo decided, would be in ascertaining which of the great tables he would have to make his way to when the hat chose a house for him. However, he decided that that could wait, as the first name was called out.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A slightly shy, yet paradoxically broadly confident smile began to lift the edges of his mouth. It had begun.

It didn't take long for Ichigo to work out which table was which, and so by the time the hat had reached the D's, he was quietly enjoying the show, and indeed the Hall itself. However, the entire process was very long and rather tedious, so by the time "Granger, Hermione" had been sorted into Gryffindor house, he was starting to zone out a little. However, amidst the I's, one name struck a chord in his mind. ___That name... _Ichigo suddenly felt the edges of reality peel away, leaving him floating in nothingness. Then, out of the darkness, a vision appeared.

___He was floating in a room, facing a window. He noticed two small, sleeping figures on the floor, but they did not hold his interest for long. There was also a bed, in which resided... Him? But an older version of him. He appeared heavily bandaged ,and was evidently injured. Ichigo walked closer, trying to take in as much as he could, but was interrupted as a figure phased in through the glass of the window. Her hair was light auburn, a little like his, but far longer and more voluminous. It shimmered in the twilight, almost lighting up the room. _Is she a ghost? Or an angel? Or...? ___Ichigo wondered as she stepped into the room., and began to speak, so softly that he could not fully hear her. He began to open his mouth, but realised that she could neither see nor hear him. He was a spectre, a phantom in another world. He kept silent, and watched as she knelt down beside his sleeping older self, and took his bandaged hand in hers. She leaned closer to his face, closer... Closer... He noticed once more her eyes, as she drew ever nearer. Ichigo watched silently as a single tear rolled down her elegant cheek, followed by another. She began ____to whisper inaudibly. Ichigo glided closer, trying desperately to catch some of what she was saying, but he caught only the last few words:_

"___Thank you, Kurosaki-kun... Sayonara."_

___Ichigo felt a prickling on the side of his face, and as he began to slip back into consciousness, he realised he was crying..._

"Kurosaki, Ichigo!"

Murmuring around him. People turned to face one another, trying to work out whose name was being called out.

"Kurosaki, Ichigo! Please come up and be sorted!"

Ichigo snapped awake, raising a hand to his face. It was dry. In a flash, the reality of what was happening struck him, and he sprinted up towards the stool, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of the dream - almost tripping on his robes as he did so. Apologising fervently to the stern-looking woman, he placed the hat upon his head. Immediately, he felt it begin to invade his mind. However, it found little of use there.

"Hmm, now that's odd. Yes, yes, very odd indeed. I can see that this is going to be tricky. You see, boy, I usually judge these things on your personality, but that's a problem when I haven't any memories to judge you by... Still, I'm sure there is enough here for me to work with. A sharp enough mind. Plenty of courage, I see... It seems as though you are quite set on protecting those close to you, yet I can find no recollection of anyone who ___is _close to you. And yet, such power... I have never in all my time... Well. I suppose I could stay here all day poring over you, but the answer seems clear. With a courage and strength such as yours, I can think of nowhere which could possibly suit you better than GRYFFINDOR!"

With this booming announcement came much applause and gesticulation from Ichigo's new house-mates, as they welcomed him to their table. Upon arrival, he was placed opposite a ruff-attired ghost, who introduced himself immediately and genially.

"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy, at your service."

He offered his hand, but Ichigo dared not take it. He began to feel as he had earlier on. However, the boy sat next to him told him to humour the pale spectre, adding in a whisper,

"It feels really cold – Like putting your hand in a bucket of ice – but it's not too bad and it doesn't last. Don't worry about it."

Ichigo took a moment to assess the boy – wild brown hair, broken glasses, and what appeared to be a lighting-bolt shaped scar on his forehead... Furthermore, the people around them appeared to be staring at him, as though he were some kind of celebrity. Ichigo shrugged and, tentatively, held out his hand. However, the closer the two hands got to each other, the worse an idea this felt... Ichigo really wanted to pull away, but he couldn't... Something deep within wouldn't let him...

Contact.

The blast of Reiatsu must have been felt by everyone in the hall, but none more so than the ghost, who gasped silently as if he were being burned. However, Ichigo could not move. He was frozen in place, doomed to simply wait as whatever was inside him tore its way out and devoured the entity before him. Onlookers gasped with surprise as his eyes turned from a warm, chestnut brown to a cold, electric silver. His hair began to dance wildly, as though in a gale, and his form shimmered, his black boots appearing to become interchangeable with wooden sandals, his cloak turning into a strange, heavy black kimono. He felt bandages appear on his arms, legs and torso, and – most of all, he noticed a great weight appear on his back. One which he would have been unable to carry if it weren't for this sudden jump in strength. One which he could only attribute to a sword...

That was all dispelled, though, by the appearance of a hand on his shoulder. The event had lasted only a fraction of a second, but had felt like an eternity. The people in the hall had not stopped talking, their noise drowning out everything else. Evidently, They were used to strange happenings. Ichigo hurriedly apologised to the ghost, who simple bowed.

"My dear boy, I have no idea whatsoever what just took place, but I can assure you, I do not hold any contempt for you because of it. Strange things happen in this school, from time to time. I can see that you are simply another one to add to the list."

With that, the ghost bowed once more and left. Ichigo turned his attentions to the hand upon his shoulder, and followed the gaze of everyone at his end of the table to its owner... The girl from his dream. She simply gave a nervous laugh and sat back down next to Ichigo, turning to face him.

**__****Inoue Orihime...**

Okay; well, that's all for the preface. I hope you liked it and will continue reading. For updates on when later chapters are coming or for details on other upcoming stories, check out my profile page or shoot me a pm and I'll get back to you ASAP.


	2. Chapter 1

For those of you who are not all that familiar with Bleach, let me give you a quick overview: Seireitei is the dwelling-place of the Shinigami, or Death Gods. They have two main weapons: Their "Zanpakuto" - a type of sword with a soul, no two of which share the same special abilities, and Kidou, a type of generally offensive magic. Their main purpose is to fight against and eliminate Hollow (bad spirits) and perform "Soul Burials" on good spirits, sending them to Soul Society. Menos are a kind of evolved Hollow, which are capable of wreaking havoc with techniques such as the Cero, a blast of energy with massive destructive potential.

Senkai gates are used by Shinigami to travel between worlds. Garganta is the Arrancar equivalent.

The Sōkyoku was a weapon used to execute Shinigami, until it was destroyed by Kyouraku and Ukitake before it could be used on Kuchiki Rukia. It harboured great power, and was described as the most powerful weapon in Soul Society.

The Hougyoku is something created by Urahara Kisuke, also known as the "Orb of Destruction". It is currently in the hands of the treacherous Shinigami, Aizen.

You may also require some rudimentary knowledge of Japanese here. If you have any queries, please feel free to shoot me a personal message.

FF has messed up the formatting of the other chapters by removing the spaces and asterisks I used to separate different settings and time lines. I tried re-uploading them, but to no avail. So now, every time I change setting, I will put a new line with "SCENE X" (X denoting the scene no.) on. Hopefully that won't get edited out.

By the by, this one is more dialogue-based, rather than descriptive. However, that's just because I had to explain a lot of things and this was the fastest way to do it. The rest of the story will probably follow some kind of middle ground – here's hoping, anyway. Enjoy, and remember to review!

Chapter I

SCENE ONE

**__****Silence.**

That was all that could be heard. As the remaining Shinigami waited, tense and weary, for the second wave, Ichigo used the precious moments to look about his surroundings. Seireitei was in ruin. The first wave had practically obliterated everything, and only a few tattered constructs remained standing; the lamentable remnants of what was once Soul Society's grand capital. With it had gone all but a handful of the Shinigami. Those that had survived were but a meagre selection of the exceptionally strong and the exceptionally fortunate.

___What's going on? How... What... Is this?_ - Thoughts flowed through Ichigo's head like water through a stream, but no matter how he searched, he could find no answers. ___Damn that Urahara – He better get us some answers, and quickly._ However, despite the severity of the situation, and his own immense and immediate peril, he could not shake his worries for another...

SCENE TWO

On the other side of Seireitei, things were very different. They had been attacked particularly heavily by Menos and, although the monsters had been defeated, the place was in utter chaos. Whether it was preferable to the silent terror which currently gripped those who had been unlucky enough to witness the power of the new enemy, though, was uncertain. Amidst the pandemonium, one man's voice could be heard above all others.

"Rukia! Rukia! Are you okay?"

Renji's calls shattered the silence, causing many of his companions to jump. However, he disregarded them as he continued his search for Rukia.

"RUKIA!"

"Renji! Come here."

Renji turned to see his captain kneeling down, fifty or so meters away. His haoru was on the ground beside him.

"Kuchiki-taichō... But – Rukia..."

"She's here."

Renji's eyes widened as he saw Rukia's petite, unconscious form in her brother's arms, covered almost completely by his haoru. He started to run over, then stopped as he noticed the blood.

"Is... Is she...?"

"She was hit by a rogue Cero. What remains of the 4th squad has been notified, but they are too busy tending to Komamura- taichō and Ukitake- taichō to deal with her right away."

"But..."

"I will not question their judgement. Will you, vice-captain?"

"N-no. My apologies, sir."

"Don't worry about it, Renji. Nobody here would be willing to allow anyone close to them to die. However, we must trust in the judgement of Unohana- taichō."

"Yes, Captain. I only hope... They judge Rukia to be worth saving, too."

_SCENE THREE_

___Inoue Orihime ran. It had only been by chance that she had been able to escape from the carnage of Rukongai, and she felt sure that Ulquiorra would soon be hot on her heels. As she ran, she felt her eyes to begin to water from the dust, but she ignored it, concentrating on following the path as fast as she could. _Kurosaki-kun...___Orihime had to force herself to stifle her worries. Ichigo was strong – he would be fine, and even if she were there, what could _she___do?_

___Even so though, that blast... Such power... her heart began to beat faster as she approached the gates of Seireitei, not realising that she was not the only new arrival to the apocalyptic scene..._

_SCENE FOUR_

"Ichigo! Wake up!"

The orange-haired Shinigami jumped as Ishida's voice pierced the harsh, icy silence.

"Ishida? Shouldn't we be 'keeping quiet, so as not to alert the enemy'?"

-Ichigo smiled as he teased the young Quincy, mimicking Ishida's own caution from earlier. Ishida merely narrowed his eyes threateningly, and continued.

"Urahara-san is here."

"Where? I don't see him?"

Ichigo glanced about himself, confused.

"Damn, how can you be so useless as sensing Reiatsu? He's just entered Seireitei."

"Then he could be ages away, dammit! Why the hell did you call me?"

"Because you were the one who wanted to see him, you idiot!"

"Don't call me an idiot, you idiot!"

"Hey, who are you..."

Sado Yasutora watched in dismay as his friends argued furiously. This was one thing he would never get used to, no matter how often it occurred. He sighed. ___Ah, well. At least we survived._

By the time Urahara Kisuke finally arrived, the two young warriors were sitting, facing away from each other, completely silent.

"My, my. What on Earth do we have here?"he asked, with an eccentric smile playing upon his face, shadowed as it was by his bizarre hat.

"Aww, they've had an ickle falling out, Kisuke. I think we should try to cheer them up, don't you?"

Shihouin Yoruichi joked, grinning. Hitsugaya Toushiro growled. He was not impressed, and was particularly put off by the snickering of his vice-captain.

"Don't you two take anything seriously?" he demanded, furiously.

"We ___are_ in the middle of a war here, you know. You're late, by the way."

"Yes, yes. My apologies, Hitsugaya-taichō," commented Kisuke flippantly, flapping his hand at Toushiro.

"On to business, then. We have..." He reached into the striped bag he was carrying and, after a few seconds' rummaging, drew out a sheaf of paper.

"Some information for you... And a request."

With this, he looked directly at Ichigo, his eyes deathly serious.

_SCENE FIVE_

___As the gates of Seireitei drew ever closer, Orihime could not shake the worries which plagued her mind. That terrifying thought would not leave her; _What if... I get there, and...___The blast was so strong, even Kurosaki-kun... But not just Kurosaki-kun, Sado-kun... Ishida-kun... Everyone... She quickened her pace. Soon, she was inside Seireitei._

___Although Rukongai had been completely overrun by Aizen's forces, nothing could possibly have ____prepared Orihime for the sight which greeted her now: One of utter devastation._

___The walls had evidently shunned their duty of bearing the brunt of the assault, or perhaps they simply helped contain the vast obliterating forces which were let loose within them. Either way, they had given away nothing of the horrific damage which had been dealt within. The once proud structures now sagged, horrifically wounded by the vengeful forces which had vented their fury amongst them. In front of her, a roof began to give way under the weight of a collapsed, crumbling tower, tired of clinging on in the fervent hope that someone would come to repair it. Nearby, the desperate cries of people who had lost their homes and families echoed through the desolate streets._

___Everywhere Orihime looked, she could see nothing but catastrophic destruction. However, the effects of the shockwave all paled in comparison to the state of those ill-fated constructs which had been unfortunate enough to stand directly in the path of the main blast. In their place stood -_

___-_******Nothing. **___Not even dust remained. The only evidence that the attack had ever occurred was the ten metre – wide gap in the buildings; from one side of Seireitei to the other. Even the sky had been stricken by the ferocious power of the attack; its usual calm blue replaced by a lightning-flecked purple, fading to black every few seconds as the lightning ceased. _What could have done this...?___Even though she had been Aizen's captive, she knew next to nothing of his plans._

___A tear began to form at the corner of Orihime's eye over the loss of such a beautiful place, but she blinked it away. She had to find the others. _But which way...?___She closed her eyes, and began to search for the one Reiatsu she could always identify... _There.___Without a moment's hesitation, she set off towards Seireitei's very centre, unaware of the dilemma which awaited her there._

SCENE SIX

"Urahara-san, why did we have to come here, of all places?" queried Ichigo exasperatedly, as they reached the summit of Sōkyoku hill.

"Well, why not, Kurosaki-san?" enquired Kisuke, in response.

"Well, for one thing this place is bound to be the first place the bad guys go to look for us, not that they'd need to 'cos we're in plain view. Secondly, I find this place depressing, okay?"

Kisuke chuckled, and rested a hand on Ichigo's shoulder.

"Calm down, Kurosaki-san. I'll explain everything in a moment. Interestingly enough, there are two reasons for us being here – both of which outweigh your reasons for not wanting to be here. Firstly, I need what remains of the Sōkyoku for my little project, and secondly I've arranged to meet a few people here."

Ichigo sighed, then grudgingly agreed. Then he thought of something.

"Hold on – who are we meetin-!"

Ichigo trailed off as he noticed the tall, beautiful, blue-haired woman leaning against a tree behind Kisuke.

"Kurosaki-san, this is Neliel Tu Oderschvank. I take, it, however, that the two of you have already been introduced?"

"Yeah, we've met. But..."

As Ichigo's confusion mounted, he decided to ignore Kisuke's idiotic grin.

"Nel – what are you doing here?"

Ichigo asked the strangely garbed child before him. However, it was Kisuke who answered in her place.

"I asked Neliel-san to come here to help me with something."

"That's right! Sandal-hat here wanted me to help him open a portal of some sort. Right, Sandal-hat-san?"

Kisuke evidently was not pleased that this particular nickname was spreading, but did his best not to let it show too much.

"Yes indeed, Neliel-san. However, I would prefer if you didn't impart too many of the details to Kurosaki-san. I think it would be best if I were to do that myself."

"A portal? What's going on?"

Ichigo felt his blood beginning to rise once more – something was going on here that he didn't like the sound of.

"Please, calm down, Kurosaki-san. Everything will be explained in a moment; we are just waiting for-"

Kisuke was cut short as Ichigo slammed him up against a tree. Ishida and Chad moved to pull him away, but Nel motioned to them to stop.

"No! I'm tired of you playing around, Urahara! Now whether you like it or not, if this "project" involved me, then you WILL take me seriously and you WILL answer my questions. Now-"

"Ichigo!"

Ichigo was interrupted by a voice which caused him to release Kisuke immediately and spin his head around, almost from his reflexes alone.

"Rukia! Wha..."

Ichigo trailed off as he saw Rukia's condition.

She was barely standing, even with Renji and her brother's support. Beneath her torn Shinigami uniform, her torso was bleeding profusely, and she could hardly breathe. Before he realised what he was doing, Ichigo had turned his back on Kisuke and was by Rukia's side.

"Rukia... What happened?"

"I..."

Rukia trailed off as her voice failed her. She began to gasp for breath. As her brother tended to her, Renji explained.

"You were guarding the East gate, right?"

"Yeah."

"You wouldn't know, then. After the blast from that... Thing hit you guys, the Shockwave carried on going. By the time it got to us, we already knew it was coming and were able to get ourselves out of the way, but it still managed to blow a hole through the White Way Gate. Well, I say it blew a hole ___in it_, but I guess saying it turned it into a hole would be more appropriate. After that, one of the Espada opened up another one of those Garganta things, and Hollow began pouring through. We were easily able to take care of them, for the most part, but as more and more Menos started to pour through we just couldn't handle them any more. In the end, we managed to defeat them, but in the process Rukia and I were separated. When it was finally over, I started looking for her. Kuchiki-taichō got there first, though... Apparently she was hit by a rogue Cero during the confusion."

"A Cero... but shouldn't that have..."

"Killed her? Yes."

Byakuya's voice was almost a whisper, but it nonetheless commanded the attention of everyone present.

"Fortunately, I saw it coming, and was able to partially deflect it using Senbonzakura. Unfortunately however, it was not quite enough."

The simplicity with which he said this merely added to the amazement of the others that even he would be capable of such a feat. Renji continued,

"After that, we got Urahara-san's message and came straight here. He said," At this point Renji paused to look meaningfully at Kisuke, "that it was 'imperative that Rukia be here'. Speaking of which, Urahara-san, would you be so kind as to explain?"

At this, everyone's eyes moved to Kisuke. Ichigo hesitated a moment, to glance once more at Rukia, who gave him a pained yet reassuring smile, then followed the others' gaze.

Kisuke sighed.

"Very well. As you can all probably tell, our current opponent is far more powerful than anything Aizen could have taken control of on his own, powerful though he may be. Even without the results from our tests to support the idea, it is obvious that this... Thing, is stronger than anything seen in the history of Soul Society. Also, I presume that you have all gathered by now that, in our current state, we have no hope of defeating it."

The group nodded as one. There was no question of it: There was no way any of them could deal with something capable of that level of destruction.

"However. We have discovered one fact which we may be able to use to our advantage. The creature is not something which Aizen has created. Nor is it something which has come about through his usage of the Hougyoku. In fact, I have come to the conclusion that it is not something which could ever be produced by Shinigami alone."

"Then what could have...?"

"Please, Ishida-san. I will tell you everything I know."

Uryuu nodded, and motioned for Kisuke to continue.

"Thank you. Now: We have deduced that it could not possibly have been produced by Shinigami alone. However, we have checked its Reiatsu signature and we think its existence might have something to do with a source of measurable Reiatsu which we recorded some time ago in the real world. Sure enough, when we traced it back to its location, we found evidence to suggest that an Arrancar had paid the place a visit. However, as yet we do not know exactly what could possibly have created such a being, and we have no data whatsoever on the source. In fact, we couldn't even find the source. All we managed to track the signature to was a large, abandoned underground warehouse in a place in the real world known as England."

"So wait a sec, so you've basically just told us that your test results have informed you that you know absolutely nothing about this creature or how we can defeat it?"

"Precisely, Kurosaki-san!"

Despite Kisuke's enthusiasm, Ichigo was not impressed.

"So... What exactly do you suggest that we ___do?"_

"An excellent question. And I must say I am very glad that you were the one who asked, since this particular strategy concerns you, to a great extent. We have reason to believe that there are people in the real world who are capable of using some form of Kidou. However, it is far more intricate than our own, which is generally used for offensive purposes. I believe that they had something to do with the creation of this being."

"Well that's great, but can we learn how to destroy it from them?"

"Unlikely. Their Kidou is very strange, and we have little understanding of how it works. However, as far as we can tell our Zanpakuto are far more powerful than their attacks, when used offensively."

"Then you've achieved nothing! What the hell was the point of doing all these test when you could have been here, helping us to fight?!"

"Calm down, Abarai-san. I'm coming to that. As I was saying, we have no means of destroying it. However, it may be possible to defeat it another way."

"HOW?!" Demanded the group in unison – apparently everyone was tired of Kisuke's riddles.

"Well, how else? We ___prevent it from being made in the first place._"

SCENE SEVEN

Almost... There... ___Orihime sprinted the last few steps, and began to tear through the forest, stopping only once, to pick herself up after tripping on her torn Espada uniform. She was bleeding, she knew, but it probably wasn't serious. Anyway, she wasn't important any more. All that was important was that she got there in time... The thought was by now so strong in her mind that she had forgotten why it was so imperative that she "get there", but her instincts screamed at her to do so before the second attack, and they had served her well thus far, allowing her to escape from Ulquiorra, and evade the attacking Hollow. She could see the light at the end of the trees... She was going to make it... She began to pant as she sprinted the last few feet to the edge of the forest, then stopped suddenly. Precisely why she stopped at this point was unapparent, even to her. However, when she tried to convince herself to continue running forward, she was unable to. Confused, she settled herself with sitting against a tree near the edge, and listened to the others speak._

"Prevent it from being made... In the first place?"

"Is that an echo I detect? Yes, Kurosaki-san. By combining-"

"But how is that possible? Do you have some sort of time machine now?"

"Not exactly, Now please, let me finish. By combining my own modified Senkai gate with Nel-san's Garganta, along with the channelled energy of what remains of the Sōkyoku, I hope to create a portal which enables the user to travel both between worlds and between times. That is where you come in, Kurosaki-san."

"Huh? Wait a second, I-"

"You are only one here who can safely travel through the portal. Only one with a human body can pass through."

"But... my body is in the real world."

"No, I picked up your body earlier today. In fact, I may well have it... Here!"

With that, Kisuke drew Ichigo's body out from his seemingly small bag. Evidently, it was bigger on the inside that it was on the outside.

"Go ahead. Put it on."

Strange though it felt to be wearing normal clothes while in Seireitei, Ichigo relished the feeling of being back in his own body. Somehow, being in spirit form still didn't seem quite... Right.

"As I was saying, Only those with a human body can travel through this portal. Furthermore, you might experience some minor side effects, but they shouldn't be too severe, since you'll only be travelling back a few months. However."

"However? What's with the "however?" I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"However." Kisuke continued, ignoring Ichigo. "You will experience one effect which is purposeful. Your memory will be almost entirely wiped clean."

___Orihime gasped. _Kurosaki-kun's... memory? Wiped clean? But... why? If he loses his memory, then... ___Orihime stopped herself before her thoughts ran away with her, but the idea rang unwelcome through her mind nonetheless: If Ichigo lost his memory, then... Then he would forget about her. Before she knew what was going on, Orihime was walking forwards. She could not stop herself. She tried to hold back, but couldn't. _Why didn't I want to come out in the open, anyway? What's wrong with me? I'm acting all... weird. I didn't want to stop a moment ago, and now I don't want to move... What am I so scared of, anyway?___Another thought came,unbidden, into her mind, but this one she was able to rid herself of. She'd done it enough times by now to know how to make it go away..._

"Why?"

Ichigo did not contest Kisuke's statement. He knew that when the scientist spoke seriously there was a reason for everything he said. Deep within his mind, he was already subconsciously resigning himself to the fact that he had no choice but to do as the old shopkeeper said.

"It has come to our attention that the users of this Kidou are capable of some sort of mind reading. If it becomes evident that you know of the Shinigami, it is bound to arouse suspicion. In order to correctly infiltrate their information base, you will have to appear outwardly to be a normal human. However, you memories will gradually return – and we're only erasing the aspects which might make you stand out – your name, education, interests – they'll all stay with you."

"What about... My friends, and my family?"

"I'm afraid they are a little ___too_ personal – if we allow them to remain, they may cause a chain reaction, resulting in all of your memories returning. It's not safe, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo sighed. Sometimes being a Substitute Shinigami wasn't too bad. This really ___wasn't_ one of those times.

"Fine. Anything else I need to know?"

"You're agreeing so soon?"

"Am I going to be able to get out of this?"

"No, but I was expecting you to put up a fight."

"No. I swore, a long time ago, to do whatever it took to protect everyone who was close to me. If this is what is required of me to do so, then this is what I will do."

Kisuke was dumbfounded. For Ichigo to come to him with rock-hard determination to do something was one thing, but for him to agree to someone else's idea with the same determination was something completely different.

"Thank you, Kurosaki-san. There is not a lot of information we can give you, I'm afraid, and we currently have no contacts where you're going. It will be up to you to find out what Aizen used to create this monstrosity, find out where it is, what it does, and either destroy it or prevent him from getting hold of it, before it's too late. And if you fail, well... It was a long shot anyway."

Kisuke stood up and walked over to where Ichigo stood beside Rukia, and laid his hand on his shoulder.

"I will prepare the portal right away."

As he turned to address Neliel, he was interrupted by a new presence. One which radiated a pure, desperate terror.

"Inoue..."

Ichigo's mouth felt dry. ___How could he have forgotten about her? No... He didn't forget. She had been the one who he'd been thinking of the most when he'd thought about protecting those close to him. Was it because he had been fighting so hard to protect her recently, or was it something else?_

"Kurosaki-kun. I..."

Orihime walked slowly and deliberately over towards him, limping slightly due to her newly injured leg. Even when she stumbled, her gaze never faltered for a moment.

Ichigo stood, frozen in place.___Inoue..._ She was hurt. Her usually beautiful, shimmering auburn hair was polluted by dust and blood, which also covered her torn, formerly white uniform. His stomach flipped as he noticed the trails on her face. ___She's been crying...? _He screamed at his bodyto move, to comfort her, but he couldn't...

Ichigo looked so different to the way he had when she had last seen him. He had looked so peaceful lying there, sleeping. It had even been easy enough to forget the bandages as she leaned over him... Conversely, that peacefulness was now gone. Now, Ichigo was awake and alert. His eyes showed weariness from lack of sleep, yet still shone with that fierce determination which she had always adored. However, there was an underlying pain within them which almost reduced Orihime to tears.

Suddenly, she noticed Rukia lying, now unconscious, on the floor.

"Kuchiki-san!"

Her walk escalated to a run as she rushed to Rukia's side.

"___Sōten Kisshun!"_ - Orihime summoned her Shun Shun Rikka's healing technique, and began to see to Rukia immediately, all else forgotten, until Ichigo knelt down beside her.

"Inoue... How did you..?"

He smiled. ___At least she managed to get away safely._

"Inoue, I..."

"I know. I heard."

Ichigo's face took on a more compassionate composition as he gave a pained smile to Orihime.

"Inoue."

"You have to go, right, Kurosaki-kun? Nothing we can do can change that. We... We'll be fine here without you." ___At least, most of us will be._ Orihime forced her face into a smile.

"Just go, and... And... Come back soon, okay?"

Orihime looked at him pleadingly.___Why did she feel so helpless? Why..._

"Don't worry, Inoue. I'll come back. I promised to protect you, didn't I?"

"Mm." Orihime nodded, but bit her lip.

"Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo looked up to see Kisuke standing beside a strange machine. Something was generating some kind of impulse from within it, but he couldn't quite define it.

"The portal is ready. The Sōkyoku has very little power left, and once it is gone, the portal will close. Once it's fired up, you'll only have sixty seconds to pass through. "

"Wait! Will that be enough?"

"Don't worry. This isn't like a regular gateway. The transportation is instantaneous. You don't need to worry about not making it through in time and having the gateway collapse on you."

"Very well."

Ichigo stood up, and set his face into a determined look.

"Ichigo!"

Ishida and Sado stood up as one and began to walk towards him.

"We're coming with you."

However, Kisuke shook his head.

"The machine won't be able to take that amount of Reiatsu. Both of you have so much that either of your power, on top of Kurosaki-san's, could cause the machine to fail."

Sado began to argue, then thought better of it, and instead glanced at Ichigo. The glance alone was equivalent to the most extravagant of farewells. Ishida, in turn, shook his hand. The glint in his eye clearly said that things were in no way over between them, and that if Ichigo did not return, he would consider himself the victor. With a wave to the others, Ichigo prepared himself mentally for the journey. After all, he had no idea what to expect.

"Firing up the portal... Now. Sixty seconds, remember."

Ichigo turned about once more, preparing himself to say his final goodbyes. A nod from Renji and Byakuya, as expected, and a smile from Neliel. Yoruichi and Kisuke gave him reassuring smiles, though it was evident that even they were lacking in their usual confidence. That just left... He turned, but Orihime did not look up. The time was running out. His mouth began to form her name, then he changed his mind. He turned slowly and, setting his face into a forceful determined smile, he walked out of his life, and into a whole other world.

___Sixty seconds... Rukia was almost fully healed – she would be fine now, fifty... Ichigo was saying goodbye to the others, she was sure of it. She should look up. Forty... Her time was running out. Why couldn't she bring herself to look up? Thirty... Her Reiatsu was pretty low, right? Much lower than Sado-kun's or Ishida-kun's... Twenty... No... What was she thinking... That wouldn't be right. She would be abandoning the others. Ten... but... kurosaki-kun is... Kurosaki-kun... KUROSAKI-KUN!_

The gate was about to begin closing when Orihime finally looked up___. _Ishida took note, but said nothing.___Too late, Inoue-san... I'm sorry. _He, along with everyone else, was still in shock over what had just happened. So much so that he didn't think to question it when Orihime stood up, or when she began to walk past him. As she was entering the portal, he thought he should probably do something, but by then it was far too late... ___Too late, Inoue-san... Or was it?_

___Darkness. The pain was gone... Strange... _Rukia opened her eyes, and was surprised to find that light came flooding into them, though it was somewhat blurred. ___Am I going blind..? _It took her a moment to realise that she was crying. ___Ichigo, you fool... Always trying to protect the rest of us..._ A shocking thought struck her then. ___I feel almost as though I'm lost without him.. What's going on? Am I?_

It was then that Byakuya and Renji noticed that she had opened her eyes, and as they leaned over her and attended to her in unison, the answer leapt into her head, causing her to smile.

___Of course not._

Ichigo was aware of a darkness, studded with blinking, swirling lights. He could hear nothing aside from a distinct rushing sound... or was that the wind in his ears? Wait... There was no wind. There was no air, even. Ichigo gasped for breath, but there was nothing to breathe. He thrashed about, screaming, but no sound came out.___He was going to die here, in this darkness, all alone... He was going to fail... To fail to... Protect them..._

"NO! I... WILL... NOT... FAIL!"

With that, he released all of his Reiatsu, causing the darkness to glitter and dance with ethereal lights. ___The lights... They were blinding him, yet he could see... Something..._

**__****Thud.**

Despite being knocked unconscious by a considerable drop, Ichigo came to almost instantly. He struggled painfully to his feet, and took a look around. Not that it did much in the way of helping him get his bearings – not only was it dark, but he was definitely not in Karakura town... Judging from the neon words on the wall of a nearby bar, he wasn't even in Japan any more... He tried to think about where he could be, but for some reason he couldn't think straight. Furthermore, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember what he was doing there. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying desperately to recall as much as he could. However, as he stared at his small, soft hands, only one thought was forthcoming: ___Something must have gone wrong... _To his confusion, he not only failed to recall where he was, but he couldn't remember anything at all. Only his name: ___Kurosaki Ichigo... What is going on here?_ By now, even the name "Karakura Town" was fading into blackness. Dishevelled, Ichigo sat down up against a nearby wall and wrapped his arms around his legs, staring as a car drove past at full speed. As it did so, he caught a glimpse of a boy sitting in the back seat, with brown hair and broken glasses. Ichigo couldn't help but think that the boy looked utterly miserable. ___You think you have it bad, huh? _It was then that Ichigo realised that he was completely exhausted, and laid his head on his knees to fall asleep.

If he had stayed awake a little longer, he might perhaps have noticed the same car drive past once more, the moustached, beefy man in the driver's seat muttering insanely to himself.

SCENE EIGHT

The whooshing noise buffeted Orihime's ears, causing her to almost lose her concentration. The tornado of energy intensified the more of her Reiatsu she released, almost as though the portal was trying to rid itself of her as quickly as possible. However, she would not relent.

She would never have thought of using her Santen Kesshun to protect her mind, if it weren't for this. However, there were a few memories which she would not lose to the bitter vortex without a fight. As it grew ever more hostile, though, it became apparent that she was going to lose the struggle. She hesitated for a moment, before shifting all of her Reiatsu to protecting one thing – though she could not explain why she deemed it so important: the single word which Kisuke had whispered to her as she passed him, almost as though he had intended for her to follow: ___Thaumaturgy..._

She landed on her feet, blinking in surprise: never before had she managed to land without being injured in some way. Shrugging, she looked around for Ichigo, but he was nowhere to be seen. Troubled, she began to search for his Reiatsu, which she quickly found, only a few blocks away.

___At least he got here safely._ She thought, as she sat down, yawning. ___I feel kinda sleepy..._ Before she knew it, Orihime, too, had fallen asleep.

___Across the road from Orihime, a strange tabby cat blinked in surprise. _Two children, appearing from nowhere? They looked to be about eleven, too... Professor Dumbledore would most certainly want to know about this...___There was a ripple in the air, and a crack – much akin to that of a whip, and the cat was gone. Although many people glanced around to see what the noise was, Inoue Orihime did not stir._

___FIN._

Whew! I was up late into the night working on this one. Hope you guys enjoyed it. As always, check out my profile for info on when new chapters are going to be up. Ciao!


	3. Chapter 2

Okay, so maybe this one was a bit drawn out too but I don't care. The whole reason I put big spaces with *'s in between sections was so you guys could stop reading then come back to it later. And yes, I promise there will be action later on, but I'm not going to detract from the story in order to keep you guys happy. Sorry. Yes, the characters are OOC at times but I don't care about that either. At their core they are the same and that is what counts; their personalities as they are normally wouldn't fit into the storyline. As for professor McGonagall, well, everyone behaves differently at home to the way they do when they're working – that's all I can say. I referred to her by her first name from time to time in reflection of this.

For those of you who don't already know, Shihouin Yoruichi is a Shinigami who can turn into a cat and back again, for some reason. However, generally I will let you know if she is a cat in any of the scenes, so as to avoid confusion.

And yes, I did refer heavily to another Bleach episode. This time it was 114, though. Also, I quoted some lines from Harry Potter directly, as that's what the characters are supposed to say. By that point Ichigo and Orihime hadn't started to influence them much, so I thought it would look a bit odd if the dialogue was completely different for no reason.

Generally here I'm leaving the Harry Potter characters alone to do their own thing, but later on I'll be mixing things up a little more. Bear in mind that all good stories start off slow then build up towards the end!

Anyway. Here's the piece. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter II

_Urahara Kisuke scratched his head._

"_Um... Yoruichi-san?" He asked nervously._

"_What is it, Kisuke?"_

"_Well, um... did you by any chance take a nap in the equipment bag earlier?"_

"_I might have. As a cat I tend to prefer dark places to sleep... Why do you ask?"_

_Kisuke gave a slight laugh._

"_Well, it's probably nothing, but I just noticed... The timer was supposed to read six _months_..."_

"_And?"_

"_Well, um..." He swallowed as he silently apologised to Ichigo and Orihime. "I think we might have a bit of a problem..."_

* * * * *

"Wha... Where am I?"

Kurosaki Ichigo wondered aloud. He yawned, reaching his arms high above his head and wincing as his muscles chided him for the impact they had received the previous night. Groggily, he stood and looked about himself.

Dawn had come and gone, and the town was beginning to wake up. People were leaving their houses for work, and children were starting to run around in the streets, laughing and chattering to each other. Evidently, he had arrived sometime during school holidays – summer, from the looks of the sky. Still dazed from having just woken up, Ichigo began to look for any recognisable landmarks.

_Nope, nothing looks familiar._ He sighed loudly, and began to walk towards what appeared to be a shop of some sort. _Guess I'll just have to ask for directions..._ His train of thought derailed as he realised that he had no idea where he would be asking for directions _to_. _In fact, I don't even know why I'm here in the first place... What happened to me? _Reaching deep within himself, Ichigo tried desperately to find some scraps of memory, but to no avail. As he walked, he noticed that a few of the children were beginning to look at him strangely. Disconcerted, he halted for a moment, turning to look back at one of them.

Quite why this particular child caught his eye Ichigo could not have said. The child was just like any other; fairly short, probably around eleven or twelve years old. He wore a pair of beige shorts cut to knee length, and a bright red T-shirt. His face was pale and freckled, though it was partially obscured by his thick, wavy brown hair. However, his pale blue eyes, though dull, reflected the early sunlight in such a way as to make him seem almost ethereal. Around him a small group of eight or so children of a similar age were gathered, and although among them he was one of the smallest, they all glanced at him every few seconds, as though for leadership.

After a moment, Ichigo looked away and continued walking, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Hey!"

Someone behind him shouted, but he ignored it.

"Hey, you!"

Ichigo stopped walking, and slowly turned around, scowling. The freckled boy and his friends had gotten closer. _What the hell do they want?_ He remained silent until one of the others, a slightly older boy, blurted out

"Have you bleached your hair?"

Ichigo felt a familiar twinge of annoyance at the question. He used to get that all the time at... Wait. When _had_ anyone made that observation before?

"No."

Ichigo turned and began to walk away, then froze as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ichigo immediately turned and, seeing that the hand belonged to the freckled boy, glared at him until the boy took a step back and apologised.

"I'm sorry, I was just... Wondering if you'd like to come and play with us, that's all."

Ichigo was taken aback. _Play with them? How old do they think I am? Come to think of it... How old _am_ I?_ Ichigo took a moment to assess his height. Judging from the fact that he was only a head taller than the freckled boy, he would have to be about eleven or twelve. _What the hell? I sure feel older than that..._ Ichigo shrugged. He had nothing better to do. At least if he went with them he'd be able to find out where he was without approaching anyone else.

The boy, apparently sensing Ichigo's decision, introduced himself.

"I'm Adrian. Adrian Waffling. What's your name?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo... But I guess you'd take that the other way around."

The boy cocked his head to one side and looked at Ichigo quizzically.

"Where I come from you say the family name before the individual name, so to you I'd be Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Ohh okay." Remarked Adrian, nodding in agreement (though he was still rather confused, he wasn't about to show it in front of his friends.) "Where are you from, Ichigo?"

"Japan." Ichigo replied, then froze. _How do I know that? I don't remember anything... _Evidently, Ichigo remembered more than he gave himself credit for.

However, he shrugged off his astonishment as Adrian began to introduce his friends. Names came and went, with Ichigo doing his level best to remember them. Of them, though, there was only one who piqued his interest. The boy in question, Dean, gave off an aura which, judging from the others' attitudes towards him, only Ichigo could detect. Nonetheless, he resolved to keep an eye on this one.

With the introductions out of the way, the group set off towards the park, with Ichigo being bombarded with questions on the way.

"So, what do your parents do?"

"I don't know... I don't think I have any parents." Ichigo fell silent for a moment at the thought, then one of the girls piped up

"So where do you live, if you don't live with your parents?"

Ichigo hesitated for a moment. _Should I tell them the truth?_ After a few seconds' deliberation, he decided. _What harm could it do? I'm not going to get anywhere by lying._

"I don't live anywhere. I only just got to this town, but I'm here on my own."

The others gasped, and the questions began to rain down even more heavily on Ichigo. He sighed, and resigned himself to them. It was going to be a long day...

Indeed it was. By the end, Ichigo was feeling almost as exhausted as he had the previous evening. He wasn't sure what exactly had done it; the tree-climbing, the bizarre games of chase or the incessant questions. Either way, he was extremely tired. Plus his lungs ached from his constant sighing. It had been an exasperating day, too.

However, as it drew to a close and the children began to drift home, either wandering back to their houses or being picked up by their parents, Ichigo began to wake up again. Worries began to fill his mind, and hunger his stomach. _Even if I don't have a place to sleep, I still need to try and get hold of some food soon._ Soon, the only ones left were Adrian and himself.

They waited in silence for Adrian's parents to arrive, and although both boys made as if to speak from time to time, with Adrian often glancing at Ichigo pensively, neither said a word. Shortly enough, Adrian's father pulled up alongside the pavement in a long, silver Mercedes and they bid each other farewell. _A shame_, Ichigo thought, staring at his feet. He had quite enjoyed the company of the young boy, who was astonishingly mature for his age – far more so than he let on in front of his friends.

A man's voice interrupted Ichigo's thoughts. He looked up to see a tall, peculiar man in a strange suit standing in front of him. The man appeared to be Adrian's father.

"Are you all right, boy?"

"Y-yes, sir. Are you?"

The man laughed.

"Well, I'm fine, boy. However, Adrian here just told me that you don't know where you're staying tonight. Is that true?"

Ichigo nodded.

"Well you know, you're welcome to come and spend the night at our house if you'd like. We've plenty of room."

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, then his eyes met Adrian's through the car window, who smiled at him reassuringly, before going back to staring into space. Ichigo nodded.

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, that's that then. Hop in, my lad! Oh, and there's no reason to call me "sir", either. The name's Adalbert, Adalbert Waffling. Of course, most people just call me Waffles, which makes sense, I suppose, in an irritating kind of way..."

Ichigo listened patiently as the man rambled on while they drove, speaking only when the man asked him a question. Soon, questions arose concerning his past...

And so it came to be that Kurosaki Ichigo took up residence in the Waffling household.

* * * * *

Professor Minerva McGonagall waited patiently in the headmaster's office as he read over the details of the two children.

"Well Minerva, they appear to be the correct age, at least. You say they appeared out of nowhere?"

"Yes, Professor. In addition to that, they both appear to be magically gifted, albeit in an abstract manner."

"Abstract indeed... Hmm, it seems we have an address for the boy now. None other than the Waffling Manor, in Surrey. Well, well, well. That is interesting."

"The Wafflings? Why on Earth would he be..." Professor McGonagall trailed off. They would get nowhere if she asked questions like that – Dumbledore would only answer in riddles, after all. She would have to be more direct.

"So, Professor, the most pressing matter still stands. Do you think that they should be allocated places here at Hogwarts?"

"Hmm..." Albus Dumbledore paused for a moment, stroking his magnificent beard.

"Well, we _are_ rather full this term."

"I agree entirely, professor. We have far too little information on these two anyway, and-"

"_However,_" Dumbledore interrupted. "They _are_ a very interesting pair. Appearing out of nowhere like that... Well I must say that they have piqued my curiosity. I think we can squeeze them in, don't you?" He smiled at Professor McGonagall, who simply narrowed her eyes, then nodded, sighing.

"Very well. However, there is still the case of the girl. Even if the boy has taken up residence with the Wafflings, we have no address for her – how is she to obtain the letter?"

"I shall entrust that to you, Minerva. I have a funny feeling that she doesn't _possess_ an address at this point in time. I was rather hoping you'd be able to find a place for her, just for a while."

Professor McGonagall sighed again, then conceded.

"As you wish, Professor. I will go at once."

"Thank you, Minerva."

With that, Professor McGonagall stood, nodded politely to the headmaster, who smiled in return, and left the headmaster's office. This was going to be an interesting year, for certain.

* * * * *

Inoue Orihime was not faring well at all. Although she had slept well last night, she had not gone so long without a meal for as long as she could remember, and it was beginning to take its toll on her. Her feet ached from walking about aimlessly, and her head ached from constantly racking her brains in a futile attempt to recall... Anything - anything at all other than that useless word. _Thaumaturgy; what did it mean?_ Orihime scratched her head in confusion, then continued walking. Perhaps, with time, everything would just come flooding back. _Even so..._ She winced as a stranger bumped into her, causing her stomach to give yet another groan. She really was incredibly hungry. _Although_... she looked around, then sighed. Perhaps a high street packed with bakeries and sweet shops wasn't the best place for her right now. Turning about, she walked brusquely down a back alleyway, towards the park she had passed earlier on. If she remembered correctly, it was only a short distance away. Perhaps she would be able to think better if she were in a more relaxing environment than the busy high street. As she made her way over, she glanced up at the sky. It was already beginning to darken, and the previously innocuous clouds were growing heavier.

She reached the park after a few minutes, which seemed to simply slip by; she was used to walking by now. Upon arrival, she sat down on one of the swings and looked up at the sky. It had been a long and tiresome day, yet somehow Orihime was almost grateful for it. This feeling that no-one was looking after her was almost... Refreshing. Yet she still couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness... Instinctively, she reached up to touch the blue, flower-shaped hairpins she was wearing. A strange sensation met he fingertips, and as she attempted to remove them to get a better look, she was met by an unexpected resistance. Not from her hair, but from within – almost as though something inside her didn't want them to be removed.

Disturbed, she tore her eyes away from the tired sky to look around the park. _No-one's here... I guess I'm on my own, again. _However, as she was about to rest her eyes she caught sight of two people out of the corner of her eye. There were two young boys sitting on one of the many benches surrounding the park fence. From where she was sitting, she couldn't see their faces, but she couldn't look away from one of them. He had short orange hair, which stuck up in quills, and a small yet sturdy frame. For some reason, she kept expecting him to turn around, but he simply sat, unmoving, staring straight ahead as though he was determined to get somewhere, but wasn't sure where. As she watched him, the other turned his head back. Their eyes met briefly, then he looked down, his freckled cheeks flushing slightly red, before turning away again. As he did so, a large silver car pulled up alongside the bench.

Orihime watched as the freckled boy stood up and greeted the driver; a tall, strange looking man in a flamboyant white suit. After greeting each other, the driver sat back down and the boy got into the back seat, still talking rapidly to the suited man, who, after a few seconds of listening to the boy, got out of the car once more and addressed the orange-haired boy, who stood up, nodded a few times then gave a slight bow to the man and joined the other boy in the back of the car. As he did so, Orihime caught a glimpse of his face. As she did so, her heart skipped a beat._ She knew him._ She had no idea how, or who exactly he was, but she knew who he was. Those eyes... Those fierce, warm, determined eyes could never be forgotten. A name leapt out of the blue into her head and she knew it to be his immediately. _Kurosaki-kun..._

As she watched him sit down, she noticed the other boy look up at her again. Their eyes met once more, as the car pulled away, taking the two of them away from her... Orihime shook her head, then stared at her feet, all the while trying desperately to make sense of what had happened. She could not say for how long she sat there, deep in thought, but when she finally looked up again, she was not alone. Around her the world appeared to have gone dark, though she could still see well within the park's boundaries. Startled, she whirled about, trying to find the source of the darkness. She didn't have to look far. The woman who stood before her appeared to be quite old, though her hair did not show it, being as it was raven-black. However, it was not this which interested Orihime. What interested her were the woman's clothes.

She wore a long, flowing black cloak, beneath which a luxurious emerald-green robe could be seen. Atop her head was a large, black, pointed hat.

"Are you the girl who goes by the name of Inoue Orihime?" Asked the woman. Her voice was stern and sharp, but not unkind. Orihime stuttered nonetheless.

"Y-yes, ma'am. Wh-what's happening? Why has it gone all dark?"

"Don't worry about that. I have simply placed a cloaking charm around this place to prevent us from being seen by muggles. I will remove it once we have departed."

"Departed? Where are we going?"

Professor McGonagall chided herself for failing to introduce herself properly.

"I'm sorry. Please allow me to begin again. I am professor McGonagall from Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, at which you have been allocated a place by the headmaster, professor Albus Dumbledore. If you should decide to accept, I have been charged with your care until you arrive at the school."

Orihime shook her head, confused. _What on Earth is going on? Should I accept? What if I don't __know if I want to go?_ Suddenly the answer came to her. It was so glaringly obvious that she was amazed that she hadn't noticed it before._ I can't really end up any worse off than I am now if I go with her._

Orihime looked Professor McGonagall in the eye and smiled.

"I accept. However..."

"What is it?" Professor McGonagall's voice took on a kinder tone as she noticed the girl's anxiety.

"Well, it's just that... I can't remember anything about... Well, anything. I don't think I can afford to go to school." She began to tremble. "I'm sorry for wasting your time." She added, smiling shyly.

Professor McGonagall frowned. _She is an orphan? I wasn't aware of this. Still, I have my orders. Plus there's something about her... I look forward to seeing how she fares at Hogwarts._

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you. Memories return, with time. As for the money, well, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will come up with some sort of arrangement." With that, she gave Orihime a reassuring smile and made a portkey for the two of them,with which they set off for her house.

And so it came to be that Inoue Orihime took up residence in the McGonagall household.

* * * * *

Upon arrival at Professor McGonagall's home, Orihime was quite surprised to find the suburban cottage both comfortable and stylish. Somehow, she had not imagined the woman to be one for fashion. However, the neat lawn, flanked by pretty, colourful flowerbeds and adorned with various fruit trees single-handedly dispelled this belief. What was yet to some, though, shocked Orihime even more.

Upon opening the large, intricately carved oak door, the older woman was immediately set upon by a pair of young children, whom Orihime would have been hard-pressed to differentiate from each other. What's more, she looked past the two giggling children to find a tall, handsome man with a short brown beard.

"Minerva, you're home early! I'm afraid I can't get dinner ready just yet. You might want to go and say hello to Iris, though – she's having a bit of trouble with her transfiguration coursework."

"But I showed her the small details of cross-animation transfiguration only last week!"

"I think you may have to show her some slightly smaller details if she's to master this one – it does seem rather tricky. Even I couldn't do it when I tried."

Professor McGonagall laughed, then turned to Orihime, ignoring the two children tugging at the hem of her cloak.

"Welcome to your new home, Orihime. Allow me to introduce my husband, Howard, and the twins; Jacqueline and Julian, who are going to bed straight after dinner if they don't start behaving themselves!"

The twins, who had been in the process of climbing up their mother's cloak, swiftly disembarked and ran off to play elsewhere.

"Well, I shall leave the introduction to you, if that's all right – I ought to go and inform Professor Dumbledore that Orihime is safely in my care." He nodded, and she turned to address Orihime.

"Don't worry if this all seems strange to you – you'll get used to it, I promise."

Orihime shook her head.

"Don't worry, Professor. I love it." She said, smiling sweetly. Well, it was true. After the long, laborious day of being uncertain about her future, being in a place that she could call home, even for a while, was blissful. The gorgeous aromas wafting in from the kitchen helped a little, too.

Minerva McGonagall nodded, and took her leave, a broad smile forming on her face. This was going to be a _very_ interesting year.

"Pleased to meet you, Orihime. I take it you will be with us for quite some time, then? - No need to answer that, of course," he added, catching her worried look.

"So, are you any good in the kitchen? - Iris is useless, poor girl, and Minerva is always far too busy, so I tend to get left with it." He paused, checking to make sure his wife was out of earshot, then continued, "although that may be no bad thing – she and Iris have more in common than their brains, after all."

Orihime laughed at that, then responded

"I don't know. I feel like I want to give it a try, though." That was an understatement. Deep down, Orihime couldn't wait to be let loose in the kitchen, though she didn't voice this in case it was seen as overenthusiastic.

Howard McGonagall laughed.

"Good answer! Very well, then. Let's go get started on dessert, shall we? And first thing tomorrow morning we'll have to go shopping for your school things – we've only got a few days left until the start of term!"

* * * * *

"Ichigo! Wake up!" Adrian's voice penetrated Ichigo's calm, dreamless sleep, causing him to snap awake.

"What's wrong?" There was a hint of steel in his voice.

"Nothings wrong, but there's a letter downstairs for you. I think you should go check it out! Come on; out of bed!" Adrian grunted as he tried to drag his newly adopted "brother" out of bed.

Ichigo sighed. Adrian was irritatingly good at getting him worked up over nothing. Ah, well. Giving in to Adrian's tugging, he slid out of bed and stood up in one movement, causing Adrian to lose his balance and fall over.

"What did you do that for?" He demanded.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted me to get up, right? Well, I'm up."

_That is true, I suppose,_ thought Adrian.

"Well okay then. Hurry downstairs as soon as you're dressed, alright?"

"Sure." Ichigo nodded in compliance, prompting Adrian to clap once, loudly, before bouncing out of the room. Sometimes Ichigo questioned his original impression of the boy as unnaturally mature, but somehow his childish moments were controlled – almost feigned. Still, it made no difference. He had a good heart, and his parents had taken Ichigo in. He had to make it up to them somehow. That was what mattered.

After hastily dressing himself in the new clothes which Mr. Waffling had given him, Ichigo hurried downstairs, to find Adrian leaning against the wall of the hallway, tapping his foot. There was a letter in his hand.

"Here you go, slowcoach. Don't worry about thanking me." Adrian laughed, handed Ichigo the letter and ran off down the hallway.

"Come join us for breakfast when you're done - Mum's making pancakes!" He called over his shoulder before disappearing into one of the many hidden passageways of the house.

In fact, to call it a house would be almost derogatory. It was a mansion. Easily the size of a small castle, it would have towered over any neighbouring houses were it not surrounded by several acres of private gardens and orchards. Inside, it was packed with lavish chandeliers and winding staircases, though certainly the most interesting aspect of it was the hidden passageways and various trapdoors dotted about the place. Mr Waffling often said that he was the only one who knew them all, and Ichigo believed him. The man could quite easily travel from his study in the left wing of the manor to the living room right on the other side in a matter of moments, while it would take any guest a good twenty minutes to navigate their way through the various hallways and anterooms. Still, it was a place to call home and, though Ichigo preferred simplicity, he had to admit that the building was quite impressive.

As he examined his letter, he recalled his arrival at the Waffling manor the previous night. Mr Waffling had seemed more than happy to have another resident living in the house, claiming that it always seemed awfully empty without guests. Mrs Waffling had been a little perturbed at first at the lack of notice, but that was soon forgotten when he asked if there were any chores he could do. Of course, the household had various maids and servants which performed all of the menial tasks, but Mrs Waffling liked people who were keen to help, and so took a liking to Ichigo very quickly indeed. Similarly, Ichigo felt immediately protective of her upon their meeting, though he couldn't say why. Ichigo did not see much of Adrian's elder siblings, though he was aware of the presence of an older brother and sister living somewhere within the labyrinth-esque manor. Mr Waffling, however, was not at all bothered by their antisocial behaviour, adamant that they were busily studying away within the refines of their quarters. Perhaps he was right; Ichigo couldn't say.

Pushing his thoughts aside, he looked once more to his letter. As far as he could tell it was plain enough, with the exception of the address, which read in green ink:

_Mr I. Kurosaki_

_4th Guest room_

_Guest's quarters_

_Waffling manor_

_Guildford_

_Surrey_

Another thing which aroused his interest was the seal on the back of the envelope, which depicted a lion, a snake, a raven and a badger surrounding a golden letter H.

Ichigo shook his head briefly. This would just be another mystery until he opened it, so he might as well just do it.

It only took him a moment to read the letter inside, as it was fairly short. However, he had a feeling that it was going to take a little bit longer for him to understand it. Perplexed, he folded up the bizarre letter, put it in his pocket and went to join the others for breakfast.

"Ichigo! Welcome back to the land of the conscious. Here, grab a seat." Mr Waffling really _was_ mad, but he seemed to be very clever as well, which seemed to somehow make sense to Ichigo. As he sat down, Mr Waffling continued,

"So, what was your letter about?"

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. Surely he already knew? _Must just be trying to be polite. Ah, well. I might as well humour him._

"It's an invitation to a school of some sort... But I think it might be a joke. Here." Ichigo passed him the letter. "Take a look, Mr Waffling."

"Call me Waffles, please." He said, taking the letter. After a few moments of reading over it, he smiled.

"Aha! It _is_ still on there after all! I'm going to _kill_ Arsenius Jigger." Waffles looked both furious and amused. Ichigo just looked baffled.

"Ah! My apologies, dear boy. My mind slipped for a moment. Of course you wouldn't have the foggiest – my _good friend_," (he said this sarcastically) "Arsenius Jigger, _assured_ me that my book had been removed from the list, yet here it is, clear as day. Well, well. I look forward to paying him back for _this_ one..."

Ichigo was still clueless and, noticing this, Waffles continued.

"Ah. Seems like you're still not entirely sure what this is about – or are you?" Waffles stroked his chin as he said this, smiling.

"No idea. Sorry." Ichigo felt suddenly very tired.

"Well, fear not! Allow me to explain. In this world, there are two main groups of people: magical people, and non-magical people (or muggles, as they are often referred to. I myself find this term rather derogatory, but there you are.) Generally, magic is passed down from generation to generation but, from time to time, people will be born into non-magical families with magical abilities. Anyway." He paused, allowing what he had said so far to sink in.

"What I am saying is that you, evidently, have shown enough magical ability to be accepted into a school of magic – and indeed none other than the best in the world; Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry! I attended Hogwarts myself, in my day."

Ichigo paused for a moment, considering how best to say what he was thinking.

"But... Wait. You're saying that you're a wizard?"

"Yes indeedy, my dear boy! I never really bother with the whole glittery cloak/point hat façade, mind. I'm assured that a simple Italian suit becomes me far more. Unfortunately," at this point he leaned closer to Ichigo, as though he were afraid of being overheard, "that sort of thing will be a part of your uniform, so you'll have to get used to it, I'm afraid."

Ichigo by this point was very strongly inclined to believe that everything which Waffles was saying was fictional and that this was all a rather large and elaborate practical joke. However, there was something about his eyes – something which seemed to proclaim: _I'm telling the truth, as plainly as I can._

"Okay... So where exactly can we buy the things on that list?" Ichigo decided once more to humour the eccentric man – after all, he had been kind enough to take him in.

"London, dear boy! Fantastic place! Have you been there before?" He asked hopefully.

"I don't think so. Sorry."

"Sorry? _Sorry? _My dear boy, that's fantastic! The very thought of the wonders which await you, it's... Arhhhh!" At this point, Waffles broke down into a frenzy of enthusiastic laughter, which ceased as his wife approached with a plate stacked high with pancakes.

"Aha!" He boomed. "The only thing to which laughter is subservient: food!"

With that, the extended family began to tuck in happily. Even Ichigo, despite his scepticism regarding the morning's discussion so far, found that he was really quite hungry.

After he had finished eating, Ichigo turned to Adrian.

"So, this school of magic – is that where you're going?"

"Afraid not" he answered, grinning. "I'm twelve. You always start magic school at age eleven. I had wondered last year if a letter would arrive for me, but it didn't. I'm the only one out of the three who isn't magical." He didn't sound too put down by this fact. Something which Ichigo picked up on.

"You don't seem to mind, though."

"No, not at all. My sister just graduated with outstanding results all round, and she looks well placed for a high ranking job at the ministry, while my brother's a pro sportsman. At least this way I don't have to worry about being overshadowed by them. Anyway, Dad doesn't mind."

"Indeed I don't!" Waffles broke in, chuckling. "I wasn't particularly good at the whole magic thing myself, after all. In fact, the only thing I really had going for me was my head – my theory was brilliant, but my talent was average at best. Therefore, I wrote a book on magical theory and made a fortune. Adrian, bless him," At this point Waffles took a moment to ruffle his son's hair. "Has inherited all my brains - and more, I dare say - without any of the complications of magic."

Ichigo nodded. He thought he understood. However, there were a couple of issues weighing on his mind. Firstly, he had no idea what he was doing – his main priority was getting his memory back. However, he figured, he was no more likely to achieve that in a normal school than he was at a school of magic – indeed, he may well be more likely to do so in the latter. In addition to that, though, there was the other problem.

"Um, Waffles-san?"

"What's bothering you, old chap?"

"Well, it's just... I don't think I can afford all this stuff – I mean, I probably can't afford any of it."

"Oh, don't be silly. Did you really think I'd expect you to buy your own things? Of course I'll buy your school things for you! In fact, I relish the thought of going back to Diagon alley again – haven't been there for yonks!"

"Th-thank you, Waffles-san."

"Don't worry about it! However... You might have to be ready to go rather early tomorrow morning – we'll have to try and beat the crowds, if we can."

Ichigo, abandoning any hope of salvation, merely nodded and took another pancake. He had a feeling his life was just going to keep getting weirder and weirder.

* * * * *

_What next?_ Wondered Orihime. The previous night had been a success, but she was unsure exactly how she was going to top the pear slices fried in saké with a sweet teriyaki sauce which she had prepared the previous evening. Although Iris had not seemed too enthusiastic at the idea of such a thing, everyone had thoroughly enjoyed the bizarre concoction. This had spurred Orihime on to create something equally absurd for breakfast; a kind of baked chocolate muesli. Despite its unappetising appearance, the mixture had been very popular indeed, particularly with the twins, who Minerva was pleased to see eating something vaguely good for them. Now, however, she had been left to prepare dinner for the whole family while Howard McGonagall took a small amount of long-awaited leave to spar with his daughter, Iris, at her request. Orihime had tagged along to watch, for a while, but the experience had unnerved her slightly. It wasn't the sight of violence which did it, or the fact that the two of them were shockingly skilled. Rather, it was the fact that regardless of how fast they moved, she could easily keep up with both of them, seeing every tiny detail of their movements and mentally recording every instance when one of them made a mistake. Somehow, she had an overwhelming feeling of "I could do that" when watching them, though quite what it stemmed from she had no idea.

All in all, though, the day had been a good one. Minerva had been far more relaxed, and was very grateful when Orihime offered to take care the twins off her hands for a while while she gave the house a thorough clean. Orihime was once again surprised, however, when upon finishing the cleaning she joined Orihime and the twins for a game of twister. And won. Evidently the whole McGonagall family was full of surprises.

Tomorrow, however, would be somewhat different. Orihime would be going to a big city – one which she had never been to before. There, she would be going shopping in all kinds of weird and wonderful stores. She could hardly contain her excitement. In fact, she felt compelled to prepare something special to prepare herself for what was to come...

* * * * *

The next morning, Ichigo awoke before anyone else. It was pitch black outside, and the moon was still high in the sky. _Waffles-san wanted me up early – this'll do._ He gave a huge yawn, then painstakingly rolled out of bed, stretching extensively. Shaking his head, he staggered over to his bathroom and splashed water over his face to wake himself up. This was going to be yet another long day...

When he arrived in the kitchen, everything was completely silent. He ate breakfast as quietly as he could, then sat down on an expensive-looking leather settee to wait for Waffles to arrive in the kitchen. After a few minutes, he found his eyes had closed on their own. He made no effort to open them again, however – after all, they were only resting...

"Ichigo! Ichigo! Wake up, old chap! We're late!"

Ichigo spluttered awake to find that the darkness had dispersed, to be replaced by beaming sunlight.

"What-"

"No questions! Come on!"

Waffles was dashing about frantically; grabbing his car keys, straightening his tie, scribbling a message to his wife – the list went on. Ichigo watched silently as the crazed man darted around the room, then – without warning – stopped right next to the doorway and beckoned Ichigo out.

As they were driving, Waffles explained that he had overslept, and that all they could do was pray that Diagon Alley wasn't too busy. Ichigo didn't dare ask whereabouts in London Diagon Alley was.

Upon arrival, Mr. Waffles hurriedly made his way over to a dingy-looking inn, which Ichigo had the strangest of feelings that no-one else could see. However, this idea was soon forgotten as he saw two people – or rather a person and a giant- enter the building as they were crossing the road.

Waffles held the door open for Ichigo first, then entered to find that everyone present was crowding around one of the newcomers; a young boy – the enormous man whom he had come in with standing beside him, beaming proudly. Waffles sighed with relief when they reached the back door and exited into a small, run-down courtyard, and made his way over to a large bin to begin counting bricks.

"What was that all about, Waffles-san?" Ichigo asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. Hopefully, we'll be able to get as many of your things as we can first, though. After you" he added, stepping to the side of.. _Wait, what?_ Ichigo wondered to himself, his mouth agape.

Where before there had been a brick wall now resided a large stone archway, which lead into a truly extraordinary street.

Utterly packed with people in long cloaks, robes and pointed hats, the street was lined with weird and wonderful shops – ones which sold cauldrons, owls, broomsticks, spell books, potion bottles, and even – Ichigo noticed – Dragon liver, though of course that was only the tip of the iceberg. He stood there, staring, for a good few seconds, after which Waffles coughed lightly, causing him to snap out of it and walk through the archway, followed immediately by Waffles, who sealed it after himself.

"This, my dear boy, is Diagon Alley! Perhaps the most wonderful place in London, bar the ministry itself." He said in a hushed voice. Ichigo wondered why he was speaking so much more quietly than he had at the manor, but he supposed that, too, would be explained soon enough.

Evidently Waffles had done this before, as Ichigo shortly found himself with almost all of his school equipment; only the books and wand remained. For some reason, Waffles had deliberately avoided entering the book store, though they had passed it several times whilst darting back and forth to various other shops. Even now he avoided it, striding straight past (despite it featuring many of the required volumes in the shop window) in favour of a narrow, shabby-looking wand shop. Over the door, the words _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands sine 382 BC_ could just about be made out in peeling gold lettering. Before they went in, Waffles leaned down and whispered in Ichigo's ear.

"I will say this only once. The man who runs this shop is terrifying, so please do as he asks."

Upon entry, Waffles took a seat on the single, spindly chair and waited for the shopkeeper to appear. They didn't have to wait for long.

"Good afternoon." Said a soft voice from the shadowy recesses of the space behind the counter.

"I am Mr Ollivander." He took a step forward before continuing, allowing the others to see him more clearly. "Welcome back, Mr Waffling. I trust you do not require another replacement wand?"

Waffles shook his head embarrassedly.

"No, sir. The latest serves me fine."

"Good, good. Holly and dragon heart string, was it not?"

"Yes indeed, sir. A very good wand it is, too." Waffles drew his wand at that, as though to prove to Mr Ollivander that it was still in good condition. He seemed satisfied enough.

"Of course, I remember your first wand also. Also dragon heart string, but mahogany. Unusually brittle – I suppose you cannot be held fully responsible for it breaking."

Waffles said nothing, but Ichigo noticed that he was stroking his right wrist as Mr Ollivander was speaking.

"Yes, yes. A very curious wand indeed. I seem to recall that the dragon from which the string was taken had gone quite mad. So mad, in fact, that it broke into the Ministry of Magic. Quite how it got in is beyond me – the wards and enchantments should have made it impossible but it made it in nonetheless. After that, the story is the stuff of legends. The creature seemed not only to know its way around the Ministry building but also to be looking for something. After all, for such a creature to find its way into the Department of Mysteries by chance is utterly impossible. Furthermore, the dragon in question was said to have mutated extensively; dodging spells, breaking through warded entrances – all impossible for a normal creature, even a dragon. Took the entire Beast division to finally bring it down. Apparently, there was nothing to be found had it gone any deeper into the Department of Mysteries in the direction it was going, but many people still believe that it was looking for something." Mr Ollivander took a deep sigh at this point, prompting Waffles to interrupt him.

"One thing still confuses me, sir – how exactly did you manage to get hold of the heartstrings to work with? - If the dragon had mutated, then surely it wasn't safe to use them?"

"Ah, but there you have it. That part confuses even me. You see, I have a contact within the Beast Department who supplies me with cores for my wands, and he sent me a letter a few weeks after the attack asking if I would like to use any parts from the creature, whose body had been preserved for experimental purposes. I replied 'yes', as always, so he brought me a pair of its heartstrings the next day. What really confused me, though, was the fact that he was still willing to allow parts of it to be used after being bitten by the dragon."

Ichigo nodded silently, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, Waffles spoke for him.

"Anyway, sir, this young man here _is_ in need of a new wand. I was hoping you'd have something which would suit him."

Mr Ollivander's face lit up upon hearing this, and he immediately darted back behind the counter and drew out a wand from beneath the desk.

"Here." He said, smiling. "Try this one. Yew and phoenix feather. Go on, give it a wave."

Ichigo did so, trying not to feel too foolish. Almost immediately, the wand was taken from him to be replaced with another.

"Nope. How about this? Yew and unicorn hair this time. Perhaps that'll suit you better, hmm?"

Evidently it did not. After a few more, though, Mr Ollivander began to appear a little flustered.

"Well, well, well. This _is_ odd. You're the first person I've met to have such a curious reaction to my wands. Its almost as though they are afraid of you – no, that isn't it. They seem almost... Oppressed. As though they are afraid of being bent to your will against their own. However, such a thing is impossible; wands are always used in harmony with their owner. Very well. Let's try another..."

At this point, one of the wands on the shelf behind Mr Ollivander caught his eye. Quite why this was he had no idea; it looked practically identical to the others. However, there was something about it which intrigued him. He pointed at it, ignoring the one which Mr Ollivander tried to hand him.

"Could I try that one please, sir?"

Mr Ollivander followed his gaze, then blinked in surprise, before smiling broadly.

"It couldn't hurt, I suppose. Oak and dragon heart string – go on, you know what to do. But," He paused for a moment before continuing, "if this _is_ the one, it will be very curious indeed..."

"Why is that?" Ichigo asked as he took the wand from him.

"Because – Oh, my!" His explanation was cut short as the wand released a blast of magical energy from its tip, which curved and rolled towards one of the cabinets, stopped at the last moment from cleaving it in two by Mr Ollivander's shield charm.

"Well!" He exclaimed, catching his breath. "That is most certainly the one. However..." His voice trailed off, forcing Ichigo to ask him to continue.

"What is it, sir?"

"Because the string in there is from the same dragon as the one in my old wand." Ichigo jumped as Waffles interjected.

"Am I right, sir?"

Mr Ollivander nodded mutely.

"So, how much do we owe you?" Waffles asked, drawing out his purse.

After paying for the wand, the two headed, at last, for the bookstore. As soon as they got in, Waffles collected Ichigo's books in a flash, and began to queue up to pay for them, when suddenly one of the customers turned around to look at him, gasped, looked down at the book in her hand, looked back up at him, then screamed,

"Oh my god! It's Adalbert Waffling! He wrote this book!"

Instantly, people began to converge around Waffles, asking him to sign their copies, while Ichigo simply looked about himself for a way out, panicking.

Evidently, this was the reason for Waffles' wanting to avoid the bookstore, as well as his keeping quiet upon entering Diagon Alley. Ichigo sighed. Evidently, he had been right in his assumption that today was going to be another long one.

* * * * *

"Thank you, McGonagall-san!"

Orihime hastily thanked the Professor before tucking into the fresh fruit & mint chocolate ice cream. The two of them had decided to postpone their shopping duties after arriving in London early to find that the weather had turned from hopeless to gorgeous in no time at all. As such, Minerva had decided to treat Orihime to an ice cream, for which the young girl was extremely grateful. It seemed that eating was something of a pastime for her, though she somehow managed to stay in perfect shape. Minerva supposed some people were simply born lucky. Still, she wasn't doing this just for Orihime – it was nice to simply sit and relax from time to time. Her duties as Deputy Headmistress and Head of Transfiguration meant that she did not have a lot of free time, even during the school holidays, and what time she did have was usually spent trying to keep the twins out of mischief.

She smiled at the thought of them. Who would have thought that she would miss them so much during terms? She supposed it must be the boundless motherly love she had heard so much about while pregnant with Iris. _That one will grow up to be very interesting indeed._ She thought to herself, remembering the problem she had had with her Transfiguration coursework. Only _she_ would put herself up to trying to make a live dragon out of a single scale. It was even something of a proverb among the Transfiguration community that anyone who could achieve such a feat could accomplish near enough anything. Still, that was probably why she had set out to do it. To prove them wrong. Iris had a knack for proving people wrong.

Minerva took a moment away from her thoughts to glance over at Orihime, who had finished her ice cream and was busily licking her lips as she stared into space. Minerva couldn't curb her curiosity concerning this girl – she evidently had some magic in her, or she wouldn't have appeared on the list for Hogwarts, but she had no idea who she was...

_I suppose there's nothing that can be done about it except to wait and see._ She decided, standing up. Orihime quickly followed suit, smiling sweetly at her.

"Where to next, McGonagall-san?"

"I think we should wait and see what takes our fancy. What do you think?"

Orihime nodded her approval. Window shopping appeared to be another of her pastimes.

As soon as they set off, they saw something which interested Orihime:_ Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. I should have known,_ thought Minerva silently – of course a young girl would want to go clothes shopping. However, she _did_ need to be fitted with her school robes, so perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

The fitting was over in no time at all, and once Orihime's new robes have been paid for, they left the shop once more. As they left the shop, Orihime passed a pale, blond boy who simply walked straight past her, without seeming to give her any notice at all. It occurred to her that perhaps he was some kind of nobility. However, he was soon forgotten as they passed Flourish and Blotts. The scene inside made Orihime freeze in her tracks, and even Minerva stopped and turned to see what all the fuss was about.

People were crowding around a tall man, waving books and quills in the air. He was wearing an expensive pinstriped suit, with long black hair held in place by a black trilby hat. Evidently the man was some kind of celebrity. Orihime grinned ecstatically as she started to walk towards the bookstore. Minerva followed her, recalling instantly which books Orihime would require for her first year at Hogwarts.

Inside, the noise was almost unbearable. The "celebrity" had evidently resigned himself to the fact that he was not going to be allowed to leave the shop until he had signed every single book which was being thrust towards him. Swiftly, Minerva dodged past the crowd of people milling around him and began to collect the required books, in the hope of paying for them while the queueing people were distracted. However, she couldn't help but feel a little intrigued.

_If I'm not mistaken, that's Adalbert Waffling. Wasn't the other child taken into the Waffling household? It will be interesting to see if the boy is the reason he is here..._ as she gathered up the last of the books, Minerva turned, searching for Orihime. However, her eyes fell first upon another. _The boy... That's him. But..._ He looked as though he were frozen in place, staring across the room. Wordlessly, she followed his gaze, though she thought she already knew what the object of his attention would be: _Orihime..._

* * * * *

Orihime struggled against the crowd, trying to get closer to the man in the middle. She was unsure of exactly what she was intending to say or do when she reached him, but the fact remained that he was a celebrity and therefore attempting to get as close to him as possible was the proper thing to do. Yet when she finally got close enough to see him properly, she found that she had seen him before. He had been driving a large, silver car, into which two boys had stepped... One of whom was...

She caught sight of him only a moment later, standing right next to the man in the suit. As soon as she saw him, his head snapped up and he looked straight back at her. Her eyes widened briefly, and she froze, paralysed in a similar fashion to him. For some reason, she thought that he looked different, though she had no idea where she knew him from. She didn't even know how she knew his name, but she had no doubt whatsoever that she did. _Kurosaki-kun... Who are you?_ Suddenly, she saw in her mind's eye a scene, supposedly from her past.

_She was standing in a clearing, looking at an older version of herself. There were people strewn __about on the ground around her; people she would have sworn she knew... One of the two people – or at least, she assumed they were people, though the circular holes through their torsos made her think otherwise - present who were standing walked towards her. He was huge, at least twice as tall as her, with part of a white mask covering his bottom jaw. He asked the other, a far smaller man, a question. His voice was emotionless as he responded._

"_Kill her, Yami."_

_She tried to scream as the beast before her drew back one of his massive hands, but she couldn't. She just stood there, unmoving, as the giant palm grew closer and closer, threatening to envelope her. She couldn't move... it was getting closer... Orihime yelled at herself to move, to get away, but no sound came out. Suddenly, the hand stopped. Where only a moment ago there had been empty space now stood a tall, orange-haired man wearing a black kimono. In his extended right hand he held the biggest sword Orihime had ever seen, the point of it pressed against the hand of the __attacker. He turned, slowly, to face the older her._

"_I'm sorry. I'm late, Inoue."_

_Orihime tried to make out what her older self said in response, but could make out nothing else. She watched as the orange-haired man dropped his head, then turned back towards the attacker. He yelled something, squaring his shoulders in preparation for something. Orihime felt a blast of energy of some sort, and the world began to spin, uncontrollably. Everything was growing fainter..._

As soon as it had begun, the scene ended, and Orihime blinked as the loud, busy room returned. The boy was still staring at her curiously. _Is he... The same person? How is that..._ Her mind began to wander as she stood there, unmoving against the tide of people flowing back and forth through the room.

Ichigo was stunned. _Why can't I look away?_ He thought as he desperately tried to tear his gaze away from her. _Who... Is she? I feel like I know her, but... _He shook his head gently, not taking his eyes off her for a moment. Suddenly, a man knocked into him, thrust forwards by the weight of those pushing behind him, and when Ichigo found her once more in the crowd the spell was broken. He watched , motionless, as she left the shop with an older woman, to whom he paid little attention.

Soon, the crowd began to disperse and Ichigo and Waffles were allowed to pay for their books and leave. As they did so, Waffles sighed loudly and looked at Ichigo.

"You know, I _had_ asked Katrina to do this instead of me, but she was a little bit busy this week preparing for an important lecture at the ministry on something or other, so as the effectively unemployed member of the household I had to come along. Not that I mind, of course, it's just that this whole book signing malarkey gets a little bit tiresome after a while. Ah, well. Say, your first year alone at Hogwarts can be a tad daunting. How about we stop by the pet shop on the way back and get you a little companion, eh?"

Ichigo remained silent. He assured himself that he was taking in everything Waffles was saying, but in truth he could not rid his head of that girl... _Who was she?_

* * * * *

The station was packed. Ichigo was glad he had Waffles with him, or he felt sure he would have failed even to make it to the barrier between platforms nine and ten with his trolley. Having said that, though, the sleek, black cat which Waffles had bought for him seemed to know exactly where they were going, as it had mewed loudly every time Waffles had almost made a wrong turn. As they drew closer to the barrier, Waffles leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"You remember what we went over, right? Just walk straight at it, chin up, with a sense of purpose so no-one questions you."

Ichigo nodded.

"Yeah. I remember. Thanks for looking after me these last few days, by the way, Waffles-san."

"Don't worry about little things like that. I shall see you, I suppose, next summer, providing you aren't expelled." Waffles laughed at this. "Not that you will, eh? You seem like a law-abiding chap to me."

Ichigo nodded again, silently praying that he'd be able to stay out of trouble at this "Hogwarts" place. He had no reason to believe that he _wouldn't_ be able to, but there was still a little feeling niggling at the back of his mind that something was _bound_ to go wrong. He dismissed it. Whatever happened, he would do his best to make the Wafflings proud. They were his family now, after all.

"Sure. See you next summer, Waffles-san."

With that, he started to walk towards the barrier. As he drew closer, he put more force into his steps, though he did not speed up. As he approached, he was overcome with a feeling of dread – _what if the barrier didn't work? What if he just crashed into it? - _No. Waffles wouldn't have lied to him. And as far as he could tell, Waffles was never wrong.

But even so, why could he not shake this ominous feeling? He quickened his pace so as to end the uncertainty as quickly as possible, and as soon as he saw the end of the trolley passed through, he felt a surge of relief.

That didn't last for long.

As soon as his hands touched the immaterial wall, he knew that something was wrong. He could hear a faint crackling sound, and his hands burned as though they were aflame. Furthermore, he could see red sparks flaring up around them. As the rest of him followed his hands, the feeling spread.

_What's going on? Am I dying? What... Is this...?_

He was certain that he was not dying, as a great energy was beginning to course through his veins. It felt both strange and familiar, as well as exhilarating. Furthermore, it had a name. _Reiatsu. Wait. How do I know that?_ Ichigo certainly recognised the force welling up inside him, but he still felt a little wary of it. It was growing so quickly -

As soon as it had begun, the feeling was over as he passed out the other side of the barrier. In front of him sat a long train, with steam coming out of the top. Around him, people were crowding around the entrances with similar inventories to his own. _At least I can be sure I'm getting on the right train,_ he thought with a smile. He stepped aboard, taking the only empty seat he could find – on the other side of a compartment with two boys around his own age. From the looks of it, they had only just met. One was tall, had short ginger hair, and was asking the other a question. The other boy's dark, messy hair and broken glasses looked somewhat familiar to Ichigo for some reason, though he did not react to him anywhere near as strongly as he had with the girl. _I wonder if she's on this train?_ He thought to himself, before putting his feet up on the table. It didn't look like anyone else was going to be joining him, so he may as well be comfortable. It was going to be a long journey, after all...

* * * * *

On the other side of the barrier, Waffles chuckled slightly to himself as he watched Ichigo pass through the barrier. Fortunately, only he could see the sparks and flashes of light which were being generated as the magic came into contact with the boy's body.

_This boy was going to be _very_ interesting..._

* * * * *

Orihime couldn't help but feel a little out of place. Professor McGonagall had insisted that she take the train to Hogwarts, as it was a key opportunity to meet people and make friends; often the people whom one was acquainted with on the train became friends for much of one's student life there. However, the people she was with seemed to already know each other. Orihime was, after all, fairly shy, and since these people appeared to have met each other on the platform, and so all knew each others' names, Orihime felt as though if she attempted to make conversation she would be intruding. The girl even, it would seem, knew the name of the boy's toad: Trevor, whom he had unwittingly lost. Shortly after the whistle blew and the train began to move, the girl, Hermione, recommended that they split up to search for the elusive amphibian. It was at this point that Orihime finally spoke up.

"Um, can I help?" She asked, timidly.

"Of course you can! I'm Hermione Granger. And This is Neville Longbottom," She gestured at the boy who had lost his toad. "And you are?"

"M-my name's Inoue Orihime, but I think that should be the other way around here... Um... sorry." She cast her eyes down. _I started rambling again_, she chided herself.

"Don't worry about it, Orihime. Pleased to meet you. Look, we're going to head off. Why don't you come with me and we'll chat on the way?"

Orihime nodded, smiling. The girl was a little bossy, but she seemed friendly enough. Together, they set off down the train in search of Neville's toad.

* * * * *

Ichigo was aware of the two boys on the other side of the compartment talking, but he ignored them. At one point a woman came through pushing a trolley loaded with confectionery, but he ignored her as well after taking a look at the wares she had for sale. For some reason, none of it really appealed to him. He _had_ introduced himself to the others shortly after sitting down, when one of them had asked for his name, but after that he had simply rested. For a while, at least. However, he did look up when a boy burst in, panting and tearful, to enquire as to whether any of them had seen a toad. When Ichigo shook his head along with the others, the boy began to wail, before the boy with the broken glasses (who had introduced himself as Harry) consoled him slightly. He left shortly, after which the red-haired boy (who had, in turn, introduced himself as Ron) drew a wand out from his bag and began to chant an incantation while pointing it at his rat. Ichigo watched surreptitiously, feigning indifference but secretly quite interested to see what the boy was going to do. However, the spell was interrupted by the carriage door opening once more. The toadless boy had returned, with a couple of friends. Both were girls, though one was slightly obscured from view by the one in front's busy hair. Incidentally, it was this one who took charge.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." she said loudly. Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, but the red-haired boy spoke for him.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it."

The girl ignored him, more interested in the fact that he had his wand out.

"Are you doing magic?" She asked, evidently intrigued. "Let's see it, then."

She shifted her position and sat down opposite Ichigo to watch Ron's attempt at magic. At first, Ichigo watched along with her, then froze as he heard a gasp from the girl who had been standing behind her. His head snapped around to look at her, and their eyes met for a brief moment, before they both looked down.Ichigo's head rang with thoughts – Who was she? Why did he react so strongly whenever he saw her? And why did he get such a strong feeling that he knew her?

Orihime's head was similarly filled with whirring thoughts. _Kurosaki-kun... Oh no, why is he here? Should I talk to him? What's..._

Both their thoughts broke off as the bolder girl, Hermione, left the compartment. Orihime, upon noticing this, immediately followed her, glancing once more at Ichigo before she left. As Ichigo's gaze re-entered the room, Ron asked,

"Hey, do you know each other?"

Ichigo blinked for a moment in surprise.

"Do me and... Who know?"

"You and the girl – you know, the quiet one?"

Ichigo gave a wry laugh.

"I have no idea."

Ron laughed as well, albeit nervously, before he and Harry went back to chatting and Ichigo went back to resting. However, the peace was short-lived as three boys entered the compartment. Sensing hostility, Ichigo raised his awareness, though he refrained from moving. Immediately, Harry appeared to recognise the smaller of the three. Quite a lot smaller, in fact – the others very much resembled bodyguards.

"They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" He asked, ignoring Ichigo and Ron.

"Yes." he answered, evidently intimidated by the two larger boys. The pale boy in the centre then introduced himself, along with his "bodyguards" as Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. It seemed fitting that only the leader should be allowed to give his full name.

After that, there seemed to be some sort of discrepancy after Ron found something amusing in Malfoy's name. This led to a battle of words, which ended with Malfoy insulting Ron to the extent that he stood up and challenged him.

"Oh, you're going to fight us are you?" he asked, sneering.

"Unless you get out now." Harry replied, clenching his fists. Ichigo could tell that he was terrified, but was doing his best to hide it. This was quite an accolade on his part, Ichigo thought, considering the size of Crabbe and Goyle. It was, however, to no avail.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we boys?" Malfoy rebuked, still sneering.

At this point, Ichigo decided it was time to intervene. He sat up just as the boy named Goyle was reaching for one of the strange sweets on the table and gave him a look which made him freeze in place. He slowly stood up and turned, inexplicably reaching into himself for the energy he had felt when he had walked through the barrier previously. As soon as he had drawn himself up to his full height, he shot the three intruders, one by one, a look which quite simply conveyed the words _do as I say or die._

"Get out. Now." His voice was cold, and devoid of emotion, yet it betrayed a feral violence within which shocked even him.

"W-we don't want to. Sorry." replied Malfoy, as Crabbe and Goyle shuffled closer to him. They really were behaving like bodyguards.

Riled, Ichigo grasped his Reiatsu and released a small amount of it, clenching his fists as he felt it burst forth from his body.

"_Now."_ He repeated. Malfoy winced for a moment as Ichigo's voice reached him, then turned and departed, ordering Crabbe and Goyle to follow. As the compartment door shut, Ichigo sat back down, only to be disturbed yet again as Hermione re-entered. She could evidently sense the atmosphere, or perhaps she simply heard Ron telling Harry what he thought of Malfoy, because she immediately posed the question,

"You haven't been fighting, have you?"

"No... Not quite." Ron replied, glancing at Ichigo. There was something in his eyes which Ichigo couldn't quite place. Was it fear? No. It looked more like... _Respect?_

"Well, you'd better get your robes on quickly. We'll be arriving soon." She said curtly, before leaving. Ichigo glanced at the others, who looked back at him, and shrugged before promptly getting changed. The others followed suit, and shortly afterwards the train pulled to a halt.

It had been hard to notice the change in the well-lit carriages, but outside night had fallen. Quite a long way, by the look of the deep purple sky. As soon as they got out, Ichigo heard a loud voice calling out.

"Firs' years over here!" Ichigo looked in the direction of the voice to find a gargantuan man with a huge black bushy beard waving at him – no, the person next to him.

"All right there, Harry?"

He called for everyone to follow him, and set off through the darkness. Ichigo followed Harry and Ron silently, looking around himself for the auburn-haired girl he had seen earlier. He soon found her in the crowd, thanks to the moonlight shining off her glittering blue hairpins. However, his attention was stolen away as the crowd of people in front of him gasped. Looking forward, he saw that they were on the edge of a vast, glittering black lake. On the other side, at the peak of a high mountain, was a colossal castle, adorned with many turrets and looming towers. Looking back at the lake, Ichigo noticed and began to make his way down to a fleet of small wooden boats, regarding which the large man shouted;

"No more'n four to a boat!"

Ichigo found it all to easy to oblige, being as he was one of the last people to arrive. Seeing that Harry and Ron had been joined in their boat by Neville and Hermione, Ichigo singled out the last empty boat and leapt in, easily clearing the six-foot expanse of water between it and the bank which had evidently put off the others. As such, he was surprised when he was joined in the boat by the very same auburn-haired girl as he had been trying to find in the crowd earlier on. Startled, he quickly looked away from her, up at the night sky, hardly noticing when the boats began to move off, apparently of their own accord.

"Um..." Ichigo turned away from the stars to face her. Her cheeks had a slight red tinge to them.

"Um... What's your name?" She asked, though Ichigo had the strangest feeling she already knew the answer.

"Kurosaki Ichigo" he replied, "how about you?"

"I'm Ino-"

"Heads Down!" She was cut off as the large man yelled a warning to the students. Ichigo looked up, then ducked back down again just in time to avoid smacking his head against the roof of large stone tunnel. The girl, however, was a little bit too slow and caught her head on it.

"Are you all right?" He asked her. "That sounded painful."

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." She said, giggling slightly. Her cheeks flushed a slightly deeper red. Ichigo frowned, but nodded nonetheless before disembarking from the boat, turning to offer the girl his hand – only to find that she was already standing beside him. She smiled, then turned to face the huge doors of the castle – just in time to see the huge, shaggy man raise his fist and bang thrice upon them.

Slowly, silently, the doors began to open. Ichigo was blinded at first by the flickering torches within, but his eyes soon adjusted to the sight. As they did so, they also took in a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes who stood in the doorway.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

A feeling of dread, followed by a rush of excitement. Ichigo knew he wasn't the only one who felt it. This year, this place, though strange, was going to be different from anything he had ever done before. It would, he knew, be filled with wonder and, well, magic – but also trials and challenges which would test him and push him to his very limits.

**_Bring it on._**

* * * * *

Apologies again for the length – I got a little carried away. Again, I was working on this pretty much solidly for a week – my eyes are soo messed up!

Next Chapter coming soon, folks! Don't forget to review - I might even hand out a sneaky peek of what's to come in exchange for good reviews (hey, who says I can't play dirty if I want to?)

Hope you liked it!

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry to everyone who reviewed about the whole "sneak peek" thing – didn't quite work out. I wanted to keep it exclusively for reviewers, but couldn't work out how. Anyway, here's a (very late) preview of then ext chapter. I have 15 pages so far, but it'll be another 5, at least, and school work is picking up. It's a battle against the clock!

Well anyway, here it is. Enjoy.

Waffles' eyes widened as he took in the man's words._ Surely he was bluffing? Surely he wouldn't really kill him..? _Steeling himself, he forced his voice to cease quivering.

"You wouldn't dare. Hogwarts school is renowned for being one of the safest places in the wizarding world. Do you really think that you could get away with committing a serious crime here?"

The man laughed coldly.

"This place isn't all that. I bet we could. In fact, how about we test it, eh?"

As he finished, the man drew his wand from his belt and, in one swift movement, flung a curse at Waffles, who deflected it on instinct, amazing himself with his lightning-fast reactions. He deepened his stance and narrowed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come. Around his attacker, the four or so other masked men fanned out to form a semicircle in front of him.

"Well, it looks like not everyone here is good for nothing after all. Still, you won't get lucky again. Especially not if I use something for which there is no counter! _Crucio!_"

_The Cruciatus curse? Surely not – that was- _Waffles cut his thoughts short._ Of course they would use the unforgivable curses._ It made sense, after all, since they were prepared to kill him. However, his opponent had underestimated him. He thrust his wand hand forwards, accepting and embracing the pain of the curse for a fraction of a second so as to throw his opponent off balance, then flicked the tip of his wand, along with the curse, to one side. The energy from the spell dissipated harmlessly into a wall, as Waffles prepared his counter-attack.

He backed off a little, then sprung forwards, soaring through the air and corkscrewing his body so that his arms whirled like a tornado. At a word from him a long, thin beam of white light sprang forth from the tip of his wand, curving like a whip as he span. As it struck each of his aggressors they flew backwards with a flash of light, to land in a heap several metres away.

Waffles smiled faintly as he landed on his feet. His summer tutor would certainly be proud of him for executing such a difficult technique in a tight situation. However, his opponents weren't done yet.

"Is that all you've got, boy?"

This is just an excerpt from somewhere near the start. What's going on will be explained, but I reckon you'll be able to gather pretty well what's going on. And yes, that's all you get. Sorry. I'll try to finish the rest as soon as I can, I promise.


	4. Chapter 3

Two words: School sucks. Actually, it's not too bad (and also somewhat self-inflicted) but it _has_ prevented me from getting this done until now, so as far as you guys are concerned it sucks.

Still, it's done now. Enjoy!

This was actually originally supposed to be the prelude to chapter 3, but it got so long I decided to just post it as it is. I've done one which was all Bleach (near enough), so I thought I might as well do one which was all (or mostly) HP – but starring my own characters, because I can. The next one might take a while, since it's so long. Or, I might decide to post it in a series of shorter pieces. I don't know yet.

Okay, okay. So I messed up the timeline pretty badly here. However, I'm sure you'll agree that it doesn't matter too much. I'm just going to assume that everything in the main story is happening in 2004 (after the time-travelling, with present day being 2009/2010), and everything will be fine. Probably. Hopefully.

One more thing. In the last chapter I put Orihime in Gryffindor. I'm sure there will be a few of you who disagree with my decision but, frankly, I don't care. I know I say that a lot (and it's probably not endearing me an awful lot) but it's true. I am telling the story as it presents itself in my mind, with the characters as I perceive them. Speaking of which, my reasoning for placing Orihime in Gryffindor should become evident later on in the story, or it might not. It depends on how I feel.

Chapter III

"Well, that's that I suppose." Waffles sighed contently to himself as he snapped his desk shut, for the first time in months.

"I suppose sometimes paperwork just catches up with you... Hmm; now. What could this be?" He remarked to himself as a small, unremarkable book, bound in emerald green cloth, fell to the floor from his desk. He leaned down and picked the book up, and out of curiosity opened it to the first page. He recognised the untidy scrawl within as his own almost immediately.

"My old diary...? How did this get here?" He smiled to himself. "Well, it couldn't hurt I suppose. I've no more work to do, after all."

With that, he began to read, immersing himself in the swirling, ethereal mist that was his past...

**April 24, 1984. 11:45 p.m.**

_What's... Going on?_ He shuddered as another wave of uneasiness shot through him. _These guys... _They weren't Hogwarts students; that much was certain. He followed silently as they made their way towards the school building, their masks glinting silver in what little moonlight happened upon them. As he did so, he wondered to himself what his punishment would be for being out so very late._ I suppose I won't get in too much trouble – I _am_ a prefect, after all... _And anyway; if anyone asked he could always say that he wanted to visit the library to brush up on some counter-spell techniques. They were coming up to the school building now, after all. No-one would need to know what he had _really_ been doing...

-Waffles shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts. They were indeed coming up to the school building, and it would be much harder to pursue the strange people when he had to watch out for Filch as well. He advanced slightly, hoping to make it through the huge door before it shut after them, so as to avoid having to reopen it himself. He crept slowly forwards for a moment, then dived behind a statue as one of them turned suddenly.

"Did you hear something, Eric?"

"I thought I did, but it doesn't look like there's anything there."

"Well, let's get a move on then. We need to get out of here as quickly as we can."

"Are you... Scared, Brock?"

"No. I am cautious. Something which a ham-handed fool like you would not understand. Now move."

With that, they set off once more, with Waffles following at a slightly more generous distance. Fortunately, the main corridor was quite wide, and there were plenty of shadows to hide in. More thoughts started running through his head then, as he racked his brains to find where he had seen masks like those before._ Skull-masks... I'm sure they were – no. They would never have gotten into Hogwarts. But then again, these people obviously don't belong here... _

Once again, he shook off his thoughts and raised his awareness. This time, however, he was a little too late.

"Well, well, well... What have we here?"

Waffles started and leapt backwards, flipping himself over one handed with an agility which shocked his inquisitor. Upon landing he drew his wand, adopting his usual fighting stance – which closely resembled that of a Kung-Fu master.

"Wh-who are you? What are you doing in Hogwarts?" His voice trembled a little, betraying his unease.

"I think the question should be 'what are you doing out of bed?', boy."

The masked man's patronising tone infuriated Waffles, filling him with rage and, with it, courage.

"I'm the one asking the questions. Not you. Unless, of course, you'd rather said questions were asked by the Headmaster?"

He noted that they responded rather strangely to this. He had been expecting his reference to Dumbledore to have an effect, but they seemed positively terrified. Until, that is, one of the more confident among them piped up,

"Ooh, going to set the old man on us, are you? Well, go ahead. But I'm warning you, you'll be dead by the time he arrives, and we'll be loooong gone." Too bad for you that even if you _do_ call for help, none will come. Looks like the anti-magic effects here don't work for silence charms.

Waffles' eyes widened as he took in the man's words._ Surely he was bluffing? Surely he wouldn't really kill him..? _Steeling himself, he forced his voice to cease quivering.

"You wouldn't dare. Hogwarts school is renowned for being one of the safest places in the wizarding world. Do you really think that you could get away with committing a serious crime here?"

The man laughed coldly.

"This place isn't all that. I bet we could. In fact, how about we test it, eh?"

As he finished, the man drew his wand from his belt and, in one swift movement, flung a curse at Waffles, who deflected it on instinct, amazing himself with his lightning-fast reactions. He deepened his stance and narrowed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come. Around his attacker, the four or so other masked men fanned out to form a semicircle in front of him.

"Well, it looks like not everyone here is good for nothing after all. Still, you won't get lucky again. Especially not if I use something for which there is no counter! _Crucio!_"

_The Cruciatus curse? Surely not – that was- _Waffles cut his thoughts short._ Of course they would use the unforgivable curses._ It made sense, after all, since they were prepared to kill him. However, his opponent had underestimated him. He thrust his wand hand forwards, accepting and embracing the pain of the curse for a fraction of a second so as to throw his opponent off balance, then flicked the tip of his wand, along with the curse, to one side. The energy from the spell dissipated harmlessly into a wall, as Waffles prepared his counter-attack.

He backed off a little, then sprung forwards, soaring through the air and corkscrewing his body so that his arms whirled like a tornado. At a word from him a long, thin beam of white light sprang forth from the tip of his wand, curving like a whip as he span. As it struck each of his aggressors they flew backwards with a flash of light, to land in a heap several metres away.

Waffles smiled faintly as he landed on his feet. His summer tutor would certainly be proud of him for executing such a difficult technique in a tight situation. However, his opponents weren't done yet.

"Is that all you've got, boy?"

The one named Brock stood up, brushing himself off. His mask lay on the ground, cracked by the force of Waffles' attack. Immediately, Waffles recognised him from the cover of The Daily Prophet a few days back. He had been listed as "particularly dangerous" in a list of suspected Death Eaters.

He took a step back, cursing himself for not realising sooner who the intruders were. He needed to call for the headmaster, and fast. He ducked as another of the Death Eaters staggered to his feet and flung a curse at him, then hand-sprung backwards down the corridor to avoid a wave of fireballs from another. _Damn it... I need to get out of here... Calm down, man! You just need to relax... _His breathing slowed, _And assess the situation... _He scanned the Death Eaters as the last of them rose shakily to his feet, his clever eyes darting back and forth as his brain calculated at a rate unachievable by any normal person. There were six of them in all, but they didn't seem particularly competent – probably just grunts. He could deal with them. The one with the broken mask, on the other hand... He had dangerous eyes. On top of that, he was certainly capable of killing. Speaking of which-

"_Crucio!" Another Cruciatus curse – This chap is evidently a fan._ This one seemed to be coming a little faster, too... There wasn't time to counter it properly, so he'd have to-

"_Protego!"_

Waffles flinched as the pain washed over him. Even with his shield charm taking the brunt of the attack, it was almost too much for him to bear. Brock tired quickly, though – the curse took a lot of stamina to maintain, so it was over before long. However, it still took its toll. _Blast. This is getting to be a bit too much. I think I might have to get out soon. _He leapt into the air, twisting his body to avoid another wave of hexes from the other Death Eaters._ If only they'd lay off for a moment – I can't prepare an alarm spell with things like this. I need to- _His thoughts were cut short as Brock addressed him directly, calling off his comrades.

"Well, boy, you're not as useless as I'd thought. So how about we make this a little more interesting? A little one-on-one; just you and me. What do you say?"

"Why would you ask for something like that? You're at an advantage as it is." Waffles was disconcerted. This was not the way Death Eaters were supposed to behave. He had to be planning something.

"Ah, but you see I need to go unnoticed here. And with you constantly trying to call your teachers," He motioned to Waffles' wand, which at that moment was forming the patterns required for the alarm spell,

"That's going to be a bit tricky. So, what do you say?"

Waffles frowned, then nodded.

"Very well. However, don't underestimate me just because I'm a student here. I'm stronger than I look."

"So am I, dear boy. _So am I."_ _t_he moment he finished speaking, Brock bowed quickly and leapt towards Waffles, who back-pedalled furiously to avoid being hit by the blades of light erupting from Brock's wand_. He's fast! At this rate... _his thoughts were cut short once again as Brock lunged forwards, catching him on the left shoulder. Waffles winced, jumping backwards to maintain distance, then swiftly healed himself. Brock stopped.

"My, my. This isn't what I was expecting. What on Earth happened to "Don't underestimate me?"

Waffles growled.

"That still stands. Allow me to show you..." He checked his footing, bracing his legs against the cold, hard stone_. _"..._My true abilities!_" Darting forwards, he feinted to the right, ducking as Brock sent a fireball towards him, then leapt to the left, kicking off the wall and soaring over Brock's head to land behind him. Immediately, he cast a trip jinx to take his balance, then levitated him upwards and bound his limbs with a body-bind curse before rapidly slashing the air between them with his wand, like a sword. The ferocious attack appeared to the other Death Eaters like a web of light, arcing and enveloping their leader as he fought against Waffles' binding curse. They looked to one another, unsure of what to do. The situation was unexpected, and they did not like unexpected things. Just as one of them raised his wand, though, there was a loud crack, like a glass window shattering, and Waffles was sent careering backwards, rolling over several times before landing on his back. He forced himself to sit up, then rose to his feet as his opponent brushed himself off.

"Well, that _was_ unexpected. But not, unfortunately for you, particularly effective." Brock grinned.

_How on Earth..? That attack should have all but killed him; what's going on?_

"I see you're confused. Allow me to explain. You see, when fighting people at your level, attacks such as the one you just executed are all good and well. However, against people who have been raised to fight, and have known greater pain than you could ever imagine, it's a little... Weak. You need something more _real_ to defeat someone like me. And, judging by your current state,"Waffles tried desperately to stop panting, but was unable to – he was exhausted,"That was the best you could do. And as such, I think it's about time I ended this little game. My apologies, boy, but unlike the Cruciatus curse, I doubt even someone like you could think up a counter for this. _Avada Kedavra!"_

Waffles gasped as he saw the green light begin to gather at the tip of Brock's wand. He raised his own to block it, though he already knew he didn't know how. He silently cursed his arm for moving so slowly, yet he knew that it made little difference. The green light was moving towards him now, and he hadn't the energy to dodge it. It was so fast, yet it seemed so slow. His wand reached the peak of its ascent, and he braced his arm. Perhaps if the spell struck his wand first, it would simply split in half like so many minor hexes and jinxes did. Or perhaps he should try his counter for the Cruciatus curse, in the hope that it would work on this as well. Deep down, though, he knew it was futile. It had taken him two full years to find a book which explained the Cruciatus curse in detail, and a further two years to develop a counter for it. For all his searching, he had never found any information on this, the worst of the three unforgivable curses. He shut his eyes as the green light drew closer, so close he could almost touch it. He felt it touch the tip of his wand, felt the searing pain as it buried itself in his forearm, driving closer and closer to his core, felt the blast of wind and the barrage of splinters hit his face, piercing through the lids of his eyes as..._ Wait. His Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had told him that Avada Kedavra was painless, so why was there such a searing pain in his arm? And why did the light seem to be fading, when he was certain he was still alive?_ Gingerly, he opened his eyes again. The scene which greeted him was not quite what he had been expecting. The Death Eaters were all unconscious, with the exception of Brock, who was nowhere to be seen. Also, there were several teachers present in nightgowns and pyjamas, with more and more arriving every second. Everything seemed quite blurred, though, and the pain in his arm was gone... Waffles glanced down at the arm in question, to find that he was still gripping the handle of his wand. The rest had splintered, apparently from the impact of the curse, and was buried in his forearm. Strangely, though, there was no blood._ How odd. I shall have to look into this-_

He gasped as he remembered the splinters which had struck his face._ They definitely entered my eyes, which means I should be blind... Am I blind? Is this all just a figment of my imagination? I can't tell... How odd. What's more, I feel rather drowsy. This floor's starting to look really rather soft; I think I might take a nap... _The last thing he remembered was someone calling to catch him, and rushing footsteps which arrived too late.

It turned out the floor wasn't as soft as it looked.

_* * * * *_

**April 27, 1984. 2:15 a.m.**

_The green light was rushing towards him, faster and faster. His wand would not be able to stop it, and he was not fast enough... This was it; this was the end, and all he could think about was..._

His eyes blinked open for a moment, then shut again immediately as he flinched from the light. When they reopened, slowly, he realised that it was not the light of the sun which had dazzled him, but that of the moon. He gently eased himself up, glancing around the room as he did so.

_Well, I'm certainly in the hospital wing, and as far as I can tell I can see, so all's well as far as that's concerned. However..._ He looked up at the calendar, already dreading what he would find. _Three days?! I was unconscious for three blasted days?! But... The OWLS – I have to get to work!_ Immediately he leapt out of his bed, then collapsed onto it again as the room began to spin.Evidently, his body required a little longer to recover.

When he awoke once more, the light which dazzled him _was _the light of the sun. However, he didn't focus on it for long. He sat bolt upright in a instant, then braced his arms to heave himself out of bed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The soft, light, musical voice filled the room for a moment, but was gone as suddenly as it had come. Waffles froze.

"Alicia? What are you - ?" He spluttered as he turned to face the intruder/visitor.

"Don't move, silly. You'll open it up again."

"What are you-" He was silenced as pain shot up his right arm, causing him to fall back onto his bed. As he waited impatiently for the white spots before his eyes to fade, the sweet, condescending voice returned.

"I hate to say 'I told you so', but, well, you know." She gave a slight giggle before glaring at him, her voice turning deathly serious.

"Anyway, to answer your question, I'm here to tell you that you're an idiot."

"What? How on Earth is that an acceptable way to talk to someone who's recuperating from a vicious attack from Death Eaters?" Waffles huffed in mock outrage. Of course, he didn't really mind how Alicia talked to him, as long as she was there. However, there was no way he was telling _her_ that.

"You're an idiot. What the hell were you doing outside at midnight? And _why_ did you _follow_ them? Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed?" Were you_ trying_ to make me worry?"

"I'm sorry," he said in a sing-song voice, his head tilted to one side. "And anyway, of course I wasn't trying to get killed. I just didn't know who they were. So I figured I might as well follow them and find out."

"Damn it, Waffles. How can you be so clever and so _stupid_ at the same time?" Her eyes narrowed at him, and he laughed, causing pain to shoot up his right side once more.

"You _really_ want to hit me right now, don't you?"

"_YES_. Just you wait, Adalbert Waffling. The very moment you get released from this place, I swear..." She trailed off as she realised she had been shouting, and people were beginning to stare. As her cheeks began to redden, Waffles laughed again.

"Well then I suppose I shall have to stay here for a while. Which of course means that you'll have to keep on visiting me" he whispered, winking at her. An exasperated sigh was all he got in response.

"Oh, do shut up. Anyway, the reason I came, in addition to dropping off the get-well-soon card from your NEWT-bound brother, and informing you that you are an idiot, was to let you know that you don't need to worry about classwork. I'm taking care of it all." She smiled sweetly "aren't I nice?" Waffles returned her smile, his pain forgotten.

"Thank you, Alicia. You're a life-saver."

"I know. Then again, I _do_ owe you." She grinned "or rather, I _did_. Past tense." With that, she stood up.

"Anyway, that's pretty much everything. I'll bring you plenty of work later – no need to thank me."

As she turned to leave, she stopped.

"Oh, and by the way..." She turned her head slowly to face him, her clear blue eyes reflecting his own dark brown ones. "Get well soon, will you? Everything's far too quiet nowadays, and Wilbert Slinkhard is getting absolutely insufferable in duelling club lately. It'll be good to have you back." With that, she turned and left Waffles to his thoughts.

* * * * *

**May 1, 1984. 11:00 a.m.**

"I'm telling you, I'm fine! Let me go!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Waffling, but the Headmaster has requested that you remain here under observation for the time being. Please be patient, while we-"

"I don't have _time_ to be patient! My OWLS are coming up in a month's time and I'm stuck in a hospital bed!" Waffles frantically laced up his shoes as he snapped at Madam Pomfrey, who tutted at him. He opened his mouth to continue, but was silenced by a calm, deep voice from the doorway.

"Calm down, Hairball. You and I both know that you're going to "O" all your exams." The speaker grinned, and Waffles immediately recognised his brother.

Leopold Waffling was, despite their closeness, not nearly as similar to his younger brother as one might have thought. They shared the same dark, brown eyes, but he stood half a head taller than his brother, his straight black hair cropped so short it was almost non-existent. His build was far more evidently powerful than Waffles' deceptively slim frame, and he was often far more reserved than his wacky brother, though his dry wit and fearsome intelligence would show through more often than not. Despite his tough exterior, though, he was extremely kind-hearted, a fact known only to those who had taken the time to look closely enough. Above all, though, he commanded a great deal of respect from his feral sibling – far more than Waffles would ever let on.

"Leo! I thought you were busy studying?" He asked, his previous argument momentarily forgotten.

"I am. But, I was ahead of schedule, and I thought I ought to come and check up on you. You've really got to stop getting into trouble like this, you know." Waffles grinned widely, his brother's presence allowing him to relax far more than he had previously been able to.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, how come you haven't kicked Slinkhard's ass yet, anyway?"

Leo sighed loudly. His brother was always so persistent about this... In a way he could see why, but that didn't make him any more inclined to intervene.

"One, because he's just a kid and it would reflect badly on me as Head Boy if I beat him, and two, I don't fight. I've said that before, and it's not going to change."

"But-"

"Fighting over the last piece of cake doesn't count."

Waffles narrowed his eyes at his brother, then shrugged, his smile returning.

"Whatever. I'll beat him soon, anyway. Don't worry! I just need to get out of this bed first..."

"Well, I think you'd best stay for a little longer, just until you feel better."

Waffles opened his mouth to reply, then nodded.

As he left, Leopold sighed to himself. His brother was so ambitious, and so clever, yet he had inherited so little magical ability. Sometimes he worried that he would never be able to prove himself against his rival. _However,_ He mused, _It's times like that that he always pulls something out of the bag and surprises us..._ _I wonder what it'll be this time._

Soon after his brother left, Waffles started complaining to Madam Pomfrey again, this time trying a different tactic.

"Mr Waffling, I must recommend that you keep still until your arm has had a chance to mend itself properly – we still can't be sure that the splinter has stopped, and until we are able to remove it it's too-"

"You have to let me go eventually, after all, and anyway, my arm hasn't bothered me at all lately." It was true – he hadn't experienced any pain at all since late the previous evening.

"In fact, I'd even go as far as to say that I've completely heale-".

As Waffles stood to demonstrate his recovery, he was silenced by a burning pain in his arm, followed by blackness.

* * * * *

**May 1, 1984. 6:45 p.m.**

"_It's moving again. Hold him still, Poppy. We must halt it as soon as-"_

"_The spell isn't working, Headmaster. We've tried everything."_

"_Have you called for Horace yet? We could do with a sedative."_

What's... Going on? Am I dreaming? No... This is different. It hurts...

"_We've given him the strongest sleeping draught we have, Headmaster. It's not working!"_

"_Which is why we need something stronger than can be prepared here. Where is the splinter now?"_

I can't see... No, wait... I can see... There's just something in the way. I need to-

"_It's still going in deeper. We've immobilised it several times, but the spells don't seem to work."_

"_Professor that splinter contains the core of the wand. If it reaches his bloodstream..."_

"_I'm very well aware of the potential consequences, Poppy._

Splinter... Are they talking about me? What is this... what am I seeing... _Waffles wondered as he watched the swirling tempest of lights around him. As Dumbledore flicked his wand, he realised. He could see the magic itself._

"_It's moving faster, professor!"_

"_It seems we have no choice. Poppy! Prepare to amputate."_

"_Professor! To use such a barbaric, muggle-based technique here..."_

"_Please, Poppy. Now is not the time to question my judgement."_

Amputate? What? How dare they? I need this arm... _I need this... Body..._

"_**I won't let you take it..."**_

"_Professor, that isn't... His voice... What..."_

"_It would appear that we are too late."_

"_**I won't let you take... My hope... **My... Dreams..." Waffles choked as what felt like a wave of ice crashed down on his heart. "I... I will..." Before he could finish, he was falling._

The bed turned out to be a lot softer than the floor.

* * * * *

**May 5, 1984. 7:25 a.m.**

"I fear you don't quite understand my situation. After all, I have studies to – I'm sorry, I didn't catch that last bit. What did you say?"

"It is as you heard it. As much as I don't like it, there's nothing more we can do. You're free to go, Mr. Waffling."

"You... You're serious?"

"Unfortunately, yes. However, I would recommend that you take it easy for a while. We're still unsure exactly what your health will be like now that..." Madam Pomfrey trailed off, as it was clear that Waffles had ceased listening: He had started writing a plan of how he was going to make his reappearance.

"I'll wait _here_, then when _this _happens, I'll jump down from the rafters like _this,_ and surprise everyone, then I'll say something profound, then..." His mutterings descended into the incomprehensible as he sat back and stared at the ceiling, stroking his chin. Madam Pomfrey sighed to herself. _At least he seems all right now._

In spite of his demeanour, though, Waffles was ill at ease. He could tell that something had happened to him, even though the staff refused to admit it. On top of the fact that he caught them looking at him like a bomb which could go off at any time, he also found himself catching glimpses of magic in the air when spells were cast, though it was not as pronounced as it had been the first time.

_Ah, well. Hopefully, everything will be back to normal fairly soon. Although... _He glanced down at his right arm. The splinter was gone, and with it the pain had also disappeared. However, he felt sure that something had remained, though he could not say what. The strange buzzing sensation which had afflicted his arm was now widespread throughout his body. _Perhaps it's still a little too soon to challenge Slinkhard to a rematch. I think I'll leave it a while, at least until I get back into the swing of things._

"Hmm, Let's see..." He glanced down at his watch. "Aha! Saturday! Wonderful!" Madam Pomfrey turned, before realising that Waffles' words were directed neither at her nor at anyone else. She began to walk down the ward, shaking her head in disbelief. _That boy... I've never, in all my time..._ She turned her head once more as she walked, but he was already gone.

* * * * *

**May 5, 1984. 8:00 a.m.**

Waffles watched silently as people began to file into the old, unused classroom. Apparently the room had once been part of Hogwarts' dungeons, which had long since ceased being used. He grinned as he recalled the manner in which he had convinced Dumbledore to allow him to start up a duelling club. In all fairness, though, there _was_ a great deal of enmity between students, and it really _was_ best that their disputes be settled in a controlled environment, under the supervision of a teacher. The fact that it would also allow Waffles to pursue his personal hobby without being stripped of his prefect's badge was purely coincidence. _Speaking of being supervised by a teacher, I should imagine he'll be arriving soon... Aha! There you are._ Waffles smiled fondly as he watched Professor Flitwick enter the room. The man was not awfully widely respected among the other students, mainly due to his lack of strictness, but he was nonetheless a genius, and not to mention a duelling champion – something which Waffles and his friends had been most amused by when they found out.

"Is this all of us, then?" Professor Flitwick asked upon entry. Most of the people present were too busy polishing their wands, stretching or talking amongst themselves to respond, but one fifth year piped up,

"No, sir – we're still waiting for the others. I think they're on their way, though... Oh, here they are!"

A few of the others glanced up, then looked back down again.

_They looked rather hopeful. I wonder... Were they looking for me?_ He laughed to himself, then turned his attention away from them as he overheard a trio of third years discussing the new arrivals.

"Hey, that's him, isn't it?"

"Who?"

"_Wilbert Slinkhard!_ He's the best duellist ever!"

Waffles snorted at this, then turned his gaze towards the doorway to confirm that his rival had, in fact, just arrived. He had. Along with his sizeable fanclub.

"Yeah, from what I've heard he accepted a challenge earlier this morning."

Waffles pricked up his ears. An image of his brother flashed in his mind, and Waffles glanced up at where he stood, arms crossed, at the side of the room. _I should have known that it would take something like this to drag him away from his work. _He turned back to the girls, his mind racing. _Who would be dumb enough to do something like that? Even I never managed to beat him... _Below him, one of the other third years asked the same question.

"McSweeney said it was that Clarkson girl. You know, the Ravenclaw prefect?"

Waffles froze. _Alicia? What on Earth is she thinking? _He began to form a frown, then stopped himself. _She must have a good enough reason for it. And anyway, I really mustn't worry so much._

He looked towards the doorway again as a wave of muttering spread through the room, now filled with more than forty pupils. Sure enough, Alicia had just arrived. Upon entry, she cast off her shimmering black cloak and took her place in the centre of the room.

She had abandoned her school robes in favour of the perfectly tailored turquoise combat robes Waffles had had tailor made for her birthday. When she had asked "why turquoise?", he had replied that it would be good camouflage, since the majority of the Earth's surface was water, which was often that same colour. Much like the convenience of the duelling club, the fact that it brought out her vivid blue eyes was but a coincidence. Her voluminous, light-brown hair was tied back in preparation for her match against Slinkhard, and her face was deathly serious. From his perch among the rafters she looked, all things considered, rather displeased. Waffles swallowed. This could get messy.

Professor Flitwick recited the rules of the match as Slinkhard swaggered over to Alicia, smirking. When he reached her, he leaned over and whispered in her ear,

"Surprisingly, you look pretty tough standing there. Having said that, though, I think we both know what the outcome of this is going to be. Don't cry too hard when I beat you, 'kay?" Alicia glared at him for a split second, then smiled and whispered back,

"You know, if you let that head of yours get any bigger it may well be fatal when it gets cracked open. Don't cry too hard when you have to go buy a new hat, 'kay?"

"I'm sorry. Was that supposed to be a threat?"

"Interpret it however you like, Wilbert. The fact remains that sooner or later you're going to lose."

"We'll see about that." He turned and took three paces away from her, before turning and taking a long, dramatic bow. Alicia did the same, then drew her wand.

"Wands at the ready, then. Everyone else, please stay back. I will place a barrier around them." Professor Flitwick eyed the two duellists warily as he did so, before addressing Slinkhard.

"Aren't you going to ready your wand, Mr. Slinkhard?"

"No, sir. I don't think I need to, do you?"

Professor Flitwick raised an eyebrow, then shrugged.

"Each to his own, I suppose. Very well. On the count of three, you may begin.One, two, _three!_"

As the last word left his lips, Alicia sprung into action, darting around her opponent in a wide, sweeping arc. As she did so, her lips formed a long, complex incantation. A slight smile began to form on Slinkhard's lips as he folded his arms.

Waffles leaned backwards until he was hanging like a bat from his beam. His clever eyes took in every last detail of the combatants' movements. _What on Earth is she playing at? Furthermore, what on Earth is _he_ playing at? He hasn't even-_ Waffles' eyes widened as he saw what his rival was hiding. He had not drawn his wand because it was not in its usual place, thrust through his belt like a sword. It was rolled up in his wide sleeves. And his arms were crossed... He opened his mouth to warn Alicia, then stopped himself. _She knows what she's doing... I hope. _He wondered for a moment what her incantation entailed, then realised. _Clever... A spell-amplifier. She's using his cockiness against him. However, where will she go from here?_

"_Ferula!_" She proclaimed, sliding to a halt and projecting her wand towards her opponent as she did so. Immediately, bandages spurted forth from the tip of her wand and began to wind around her opponent, lashing him into place. Tilting her wand, she lifted him from the ground to a point a few metres above it.

"How's the view, Wilbert?"

He merely snarled, struggling against the bandages.

"Unfortunately, you're going to have to stay up there a little bit longer. But don't worry. You'll have company._ Avis!_"

At her command, a small flock of swallows spiralled out of her wand and began to circle around Slinkhard, darting at him from time to time to peck him. Among the observers there was a mixture of laughter and outrage at Slinkhard's humiliation. Alicia, however, remained as serious as ever as she continued her incantation.

_That one was pretty close,_ Waffles thought to himself as he watched the duel._ I'm sure she only just noticed him getting ready to dispel her binding charm. She needs to up her game if she's going to win this one – relying on those birds won't get her anywhere..._ A blast from below proved him correct. As the smoke cleared, Slinkhard was revealed, standing on the ground as he had been before. The birds and the bandages were nowhere to be seen. Alicia began to recite ever more furiously, her eyes shut in concentration.

"You know, no matter what spell you're preparing there it won't work. You can't beat me." His smirk returned. "I'm just that much better than you," he added in a matter-of-fact voice. Alicia's eyes snapped open, her incantation complete.

"I though I warned you not to be so over-confident. It'll just make it even worse when you fail."

"Care to prove me wrong? Or are you just going to run and hide like your squib friend?"

Waffles' eyes narrowed at Slinkhard then. That nickname _really_ got on his nerves. His rival continued.

"Well, you don't seem to be saying anything, so I'll assume that you are. Ah, well. I suppose I'll have to move this duel on myself. _Serpensortia._" At his command, a black snake shot out of the tip of his wand and coiled itself up in front of him, ready to strike. The crowd, reassured by Flitwick's barrier, leaned forward as one.

"Of course, that's not all. _Engorgio!_" To the crowd's horror, the snake began to grow, until its body was almost as thick as its master's, and long enough to stretch across the classroom easily.

"Should I order him to strike, or would you rather give up?" Slinkhard asked, in as condescending a tone as he could muster.

"To be completely honest with you, I'd really prefer it if you stopped underestimating me. Firstly, I thought I made it perfectly clear that I am not afraid of you. And secondly, you seem to be forgetting something. I may not be a perfect wizard like you, Wilbert, but even so if I use an incantation as long as that, there's always got to be a reason for it. This time... Is no exception. _Incendio Avifors!_"

A huge plume of flame burst forth, arcing outwards to form a gigantic, blazing pattern between the two combatants. Slowly, the flames calmed themselves and flowed inwards, converging and condensing on Alicia's right shoulder. The flames continued to congregate there until even their outline shone so brightly that to look at them was unbearable. Even Slinkhard was forced to shield his eyes. Outside the barrier Professor Flitwick blinked, his mouth agape. _Surely a student could not master a spell like that... Only Professor Dumbledore has ever..._

Waffles smiled. _So she did finish it. I _had_ wondered... This will be interesting. Not just anyone is capable of raising one of those..._

Alicia lowered her wand as the flames began to cool and take shape. Even at their very hottest, they had not harmed her. She turned her gaze away from her opponent to face the creature which she had called into being.

"What is your name?"

_I am Celestina._

"Do you accept me as your master?"

_Are the one who birthed me from the flames?_

"I am."

_Then I do._

"Very well. Then, Wilbert." She smiled as her opponent removed his arm from his eyes and readied his wand once more. His summoned snake wound itself around his legs and torso protectively.

"Let's see how you and your pet fare... Against my phoenix."

* * * * *

**May 5, 1984. 9:15 a.m.**

Things were beginning to heat up... Literally. Below Waffles, everyone was perfectly still. Even the audience were deathly tense in anticipation of what was to come. For Waffles, though, the wait was even more unbearable. The heat from the flames had risen in a column, which he happened to be right in the middle of. Deep within him, something began to shift. _All this heat... All this energy... I can feel it... I can _see_ it..._

Wilbert Slinkhard scowled. This was not supposed to have happened. He had known that Alicia was clever – she was a Ravenclaw after all, not to mention a prefect. But to be able to summon a _phoenix_... He might have to put more into this duel than he had anticipated. That irritated him greatly.

He barked a command to the great snake, who immediately began to weave its way towards Alicia. As it did so, Slinkhard began to mutter an incantation.

_What's he thinking?_ Wondered Alicia as she launched herself towards the snake. _Leaving his familiar unprotected... It doesn't matter what kind of incantation that is; if I can take this out it's all __over!_

"_Stupefy!_" The stunning spell lasted but a moment on the magically charged serpent, but that was all Celestina needed. With a flash and a plume of smoke, the phoenix re-ignited herself and rose above her new mistress, a fiery halo beginning to form above her as the fire within her blazed hotter and hotter.

"Now, Celestina!" Alicia commanded as her stunning spell finally broke and the snake coiled itself up, preparing to spring at her. At her word, the phoenix above her opened her mouth.

Slinkhard watched in mock-horror as his snake returned to the smoke from whence it had come, ready for its next summoning. His mask of disbelief remained as his opponent's gaze met his own.

"Do you give up yet, Wilbert? I really can't see how you're going to win from here, I'm afraid."

Slinkhard kept up his act for a few more seconds, until he saw a look of victory come over his opponent's face, then dropped it in an instant.

"It seems that you're forgetting something here. After all, who was it that let you use a binding technique on him? Who was it that let you finish your incantation? And finally, who was it that let you defeat his familiar so that he could have the pleasure of crushing you at the very peak of your confidence?" He let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, my! Your face! Really, in what warped version of reality could you have ever defeated me? Could _anyone_ have ever defeated me?" he laughed again.

_What... Why do I feel like this? I'm obviously at an advantage, I still have my familiar. So why... Why do I feel like I can't move? Why do I feel so... Helpless?_

"I see you're wondering why you are unable to move. Let me help you somewhat. _Aguamenti._"

The jet of water never reached Alicia – it was vaporised instantly by the intense heat generated by the phoenix on her shoulder. However, that was what Slinkhard had intended. Around her, something glistened in the vapour, something which was wrapped all around her.

"Do you see now? You were so busy with my familiar that you did not notice my web being weaved." He waved his hand at her to show the hundreds of tips of strings attached to it.

_My word... What a day,_ thought Professor Flitwick to himself. Not one, but _two _techniques he had been absolutely certain no-one but a teacher could use. However, of the two this one intrigued him more. _How, I wonder, did that boy come to learn a spell like that?_ He brushed his thoughts away as Slinkhard continued,

"And now, my dear, that mistake will cost you the match." With that, he shut his hand sharply, twisting it as he did so. Alicia gasped in pain, managing at the last moment to stifle a cry. With the pain came the silent realisation: The match was over. The strings were infused with magic – even if Celestina _were_ free she would be unable to break them. Below her, the first crimson droplet struck the ground, obscured from view by the shroud of steam. Obscured from view, that is, to all but one.

After all, there was one person present who could see _everything_.

"_Enough!_" A figure seemed to appear from nowhere, falling from above and negating Professor Flitwick's barrier effortlessly. A cloud of steam, smoke and detritus arced upwards as it landed, severing the strings in a slicing motion.

"This match is over. Put your wand away, Slinkhard."

As one, the room's eyes shifted to the new arrival's silhouette. Slowly, the dust began to settle. Slinkhard stood there, frozen in his tracks. His eyes narrowed as the air cleared.

"_You._" His voice dripped with contempt and surprise in equal measure. Waffles cast off his flowing black cloak, and the dust dissipated instantaneously.

"Correct."

* * * * *

Phew! Holy crap, that was long. And the diary's only one quarter done! Oh dear, dear. Anyway, please feel free, as usual, to review, and check out my other fanfic (which I wrote for Christmas) - "The Greatest gift of All" - It's a big ball of Ichihime fluff, but for some reason that was all I was in the mood for writing over Christmas. Ah, well.

...So yes! Please review, and let me know what you're thinking about this part of the storyline – I know it's a little irksome seeing as it's almost entirely original and this is but there you are. I'm going to upload the next part of this bit early next year – it's almost done – but probably won't finish it any time soon, so feel free to request a continuation of the main plotline if that's what you want. After all, the customer is always right!

And yeah, Waffles is different. Of course he is. I invented him. Well. No. I stole his name and occupation. His personality, abilities and fighting style belong to me. So there.

Look forward to seeing how his abilities develop – I know I do!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and look forward to hearing what you thought (hopefully).

Yours,

Gem.


	5. Chapter 4

Hi guys! Sorry I haven't been all that active lately – exams. Need I say more?

Anyway, here's the next chapter of the diary – it's got at least another two to go, mind.

I hope you enjoy this, anyway – it's a little more action-orientated than the previous chapters (the diary has a lot of that) – I'm not sure if that's good or bad.

Enjoy!

******Chapter IV**

******May 5, 1984. 9:25 a.m.**

The room was perfectly still. All that could be heard over the deafening silence was the panting of the previous combatants. Waffles turned his back on his rival to face Alicia.

"Are you hurt?"

"Nothing I can't live with." Her annoyance of his interruption of her match, twinned with the fact that he had done so in a way that made it look like he was some kind of knight in shining armour, faded almost straight away, to be replaced by relief that he was out of the hospital wing. And as much as she wanted to hide that, she couldn't help but smile at him then. What with the way he looked, it was hard not to. He was wearing his usual extravagant, home-made dress robes, spotlessly bright green despite the mess. His usually wild, post-shoulder length hair had grown even more uncontrollable during his stay in the hospital wing, and now looked the epitome of bed-hair, despite his having tried desperately to tidy it up before his return.

However, this all paled in comparison to the fact that he was on fire.

Not in any major way, of course. Indeed, one could easily have argued that he was not, in fact, aflame whatsoever, and that he was merely ___outlined_ in fire, but the flame was certainly present. And also, in Alicia's opinion, rather comical.

Waffles returned her smile with ample enthusiasm, before sharing it out among the room's other occupants.

"Now, now, you know that if I don't get some sort of response I'm going to assume that the rest of you aren't happy to see me, right?"

The previous silence turned, fled, then hid in a hole and covered its face in the hope of avoiding detection by the utter maelstrom of incomprehensible noise which ensued as the entire club, including Professor Flitwick and Slinkhard's fans, burst into cheers and applause.

Waffles gave a twirling bow, grinning broadly as he did so. This spurred the crowd on to even greater commotion. As the wave of cheering reached its crescendo, he leaned towards Alicia.

"So... Did you miss me?" He asked, winking.

"Not one bit, idiot." Her voice was cold, but her twinkling eyes betrayed her.

"Meh. I guess I wasn't back quite soon enough, though. Was he really ___that_ unbearable?"

"Yes." This time, her eyes were serious, and Waffles wasn't going to argue with her when she was serious. He opened his mouth to agree, but was interrupted.

"___Ahem._" As soon as it had left, the silence returned with a vengeance. "It seems we are forgetting something here. ___You,_" Slinkhard pointed aggressively at Waffles, "interrupted ___my_ match. Does that mean that you are ready to take me on?"

"Any time, Slinkhard. Any time. We could do it now, if you'd like."

"Now now, boys. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Next week, maybe-"

"Are you sure you're ready, Squib? I seem to recall telling you you had a hundred years of practise before you could come close to beating me."

"Well, you know time isn't exactly linear – in fact, our own minds can warp it in various ways so as to make certain things seem to drag on while others go by awfully quickly – perhaps this was one of those, but you just didn't notice... Or maybe you were just wrong." The temperature of the room dropped slightly, though the people there hardly noticed, since the flames from the previous match had raised it greatly.

___Can I really do this? What is this energy? Is it really something I can use? What...?_

"Wand ready then. Squib. Come on, I have places to go, you know."

Waffles snarled with anger. He hated that nickname, despite it not being far from the mark. He reached for his wand, only to find it missing. In a flash, he remembered.

"I don't have it." Slinkhard laughed scornfully.

"You expected to beat me without it? Or did you forget it on purpose so you wouldn't have to fight?"

"Neither, I'm afraid – it broke."

"It broke... So you no longer even ___possess_ a wand? Then tell me, what exactly are you doing in a duelling club? You know you can't win with hand-to-hand combat alone – we worked that out last time, remember?" The room began to resonate with murmurs of agreement from Slinkhard's fans.

Waffles scowled momentarily, then his usual grin returned.

"We ___did_... But that was then. I'm a little... ___Different_ now." The temperature of the room dropped further, and the flames which outlined him flared.

The two glared at each other in silence, then began to circle each other. With every passing second, the room grew colder, and tenser, until -

"Enough!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, his breath condensing in front of him as he did so. "You," he gestured at Slinkhard, "have just finished a match, and you," he gestured at Waffles, "have no wand. Not to mention the fact that you've only just returned from the Hospital Wing! Neither of you are in any state to be duelling. I daresay we've seen enough excitement today as it is. If you are ___that_ set on duelling, then please save it for next week!"

The two would-be combatants opened their mouths to contest their teacher's decision, but were both stopped.

"No means ___no_, boys. Now, ___out!_ It's break time. We'll resume with practices this afternoon."

Professor Flitwick ended with a note of finality which quelled the spirits of everyone in the room. In an instant, the flames around Waffles were extinguished, leaving the onlooker wondering whether they had ever really been there in the first place. Gradually, the room began to warm up again, and the chattering commenced once more. With one last glare at Waffles, Slinkhard turned and strode out of the room, followed by his fanclub. Waffles walked over to Alicia.

"Are you sure you're okay? I could've sworn I saw you bleeding earlier..."

"I'm fine, really. Come on. Let's get out of here before we get swarmed." Waffles nodded.

Professor Flitwick watched them leave silently, stroking his chin as he pondered on the occurrences of the day. ___That wasn't a spell, for certain. Indeed, it was hardly noticeable, yet the room grew so _cold... He shrugged. ___Well. I'm sure next week everything will be answered. Still... _He sighed to himself, then followed the last of the club members out. It was time for a well-deserved glass of something delicious.

******May 5, 1984. 1:45 p.m.**

"You know, the house elves are going to start getting annoyed if you keep doing their job for them."

"Yeah, but I don't really care. It's only two people, after all. They still get to cook for the rest of the school, so it's no problem, right?" Waffles grinned, brushing the crumbs from his home-made chocolate rum torte from his mouth. Around them, various pieces of crockery lay strewn about the floor of the otherwise deserted Ravenclaw common room.

"Plus, they still get to do extra washing up, so it balances out rather well, by my reckoning." He laughed, and Alicia joined him.

"When did you have time to prepare all of this, anyway? The Gryffindor common room is miles away from the kitchens... Unless you lied about going to visit Michaelangelo?"

"Since when have I lied to you? No, I prepared the marinade before I came to duelling club. It only takes a few minutes to actually cook – the time-consuming part is waiting for the marinade to do its job, and you provided me with some decent entertainment while I waited, I must say. Both of you, of course." He added hastily as Celestina ruffled her feathers, irritated at being ignored. "I'll have to go and get another wand as soon as I can, though – I can see what you mean about Slinkhard getting out of hand." Alicia nodded, frowning, then changed the subject.

"Hey, did you hear about those Death Eaters you got into a fight with?" She asked.

"I thought they were all taken in?"

"All but one. All we got were rumours, but apparently one of them managed to escape somehow – must have gone through a couple of the teachers by the sound of it – which would explain why we've had a few lesson cancellations recently. From what I hear, he's been causing all kinds of trouble since then, which makes me think that he's having to prove his worth again, after his failure here. Makes you wonder what they were doing here, doesn't it?"

"Hmm." Waffles could only nod as he remembered the face of the one that got away. It had to be him. ___His eyes... I remember. He had such lonely, angry eyes... _"Well anyway, that's in the past now. He isn't exactly going to be coming back here, after all, is he?" He gave a bright smile, his eyes twinkling. "How about we head off to Diagon Alley, then, seeing as it's the weekend? - I got special permission from Professor Flitwick, and I'm sure they won't mind if you tag along. After all, I'm sure I'd feel quite helpless all by myself, ___wandless and afraid_," He laughed, and she joined him.

"And ___maybe_," he added, a sly grin forming on his already merry face, "I might even buy myself a broomstick."

Alicia stared at him, momentarily dumbstruck.

"I thought you weren't interested in Quiddich?" She asked, bemusedly.

"I wasn't. But my mother's always telling me to try new things, and I must say I agree. And anyway," he paused to shoot her another grin, "that Browning fellow still hasn't turned up to any of our duelling club sessions, so I suppose I shall simply have to beat him at his own game." At this, Alicia frowned slightly.

"Why are you so fixated on beating Gladius? I thought Slinkhard was your "Eternal Rival"?"

"Well, he ___is_, but, well... I can't only compete with people I loathe. Sometimes, you have to find yourself a good-natured rival as well, from whom you can learn a thing or two."

___And then there are the things about him which only I know. I swear, upon my battered pride, that I will see him atone..._

******May 7, 1984. 12:55 a.m.**

It felt good.

Waffles stood in his combat robes, gazing up at the moon. His new watch swayed slightly in the cool evening breeze, invisible to the rest of the world thanks to his perfect cloaking charm. ___Ash and Dragon heartstring... Not much different to my old one in theory, but in practice... This one resonates with power. I can feel it._ He smiled to himself as he remembered his day. The trip to Diagon Alley, the frantic dashing from shop to shop as Alicia dragged him around like a doll. Not that he minded, of course.

And then there was the broomstick.

It was quite good, all things considered. Quiddich was undoubtedly the single most popular wizard sport, and decent broomsticks were renowned for costing a proverbial arm and a leg. However, he had got quite a bargain on the sleek, modern Comet, purely because it had been removed from its packaging by a troublesome customer, who had promptly returned it, stating that "black was far too dreary a colour for a broomstick." Waffles, however, preferred it. It reminded him of the night sky. ___Speaking of which..._ He gently eased his mind away from the recollection of the weekend, to face the task at hand. Sighing gently, he sheathed his wand. It was nearing time to return to his dormitory, but the training session had gone well. He had decided to end on technique practice, but he couldn't resist. Two weeks was far too long, after all. He felt sure his sparring partner had missed him greatly. ___Poor thing will probably begin to pine before long_, he thought to himself, chuckling at his pun.

Slowly and cautiously, Waffles began to make his way towards the Whomping Willow.

Gradually, the silhouette began to take a form, the thick branches winding and swaying about the massive trunk. Above Waffles one of the great boughs creaked as it twisted through the air, itching for something to pummel. He watched his step carefully as he crept towards the great tree, mindful of the multitude of gouge marks in the ground, a testament to the Willow's violent nature. A sudden sound caused Waffles to freeze in his tracks.

He had stepped on a twig.

Slowly and silently he raised his head to gaze fearfully up at the towering construct. He held his breath, tense for the impact. Which didn't come. At least, not immediately. Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he detected a slight rustling behind him. He hesitated for a brief moment, then dived to the side as a mass of vines whirled past, burying themselves in the ground where he had been only moments before. He blinked in surprise as he sprang to his feet. ___It's gotten... Better. It never used to be able to ensnare._ He grinned. ___Then again, I'm a little better too. Let's see who has improved... The most!_

Silently, he dodged two spiked branches before diving skywards, somersaulting backwards several feet above the air to land well beyond the reach of the Willow, which bristled in frustration. He gave a short, sharp laugh.

"Now, don't be like that. I just need to catch my breath, that's all."

The tree rustled its leaves in response.

"Right. That's that, then. Let's see if we can't make this a little more interesting, shall we?" He shut his eyes, casting his mind back to his hospital bed.

___Back then, I could... See... The magic. If I can remember how it felt then, then maybe... Just maybe, I'll be able to see this as well... Concentrate, Waffles, concentrate... There!_ He snapped his eyes open, then gasped.

The sight which greeted him was utterly breathtaking.

In the hospital bed, he had been able to see the magical energy from the spells which the teachers had been casting. Now, though, he was looking at an entity comprised of nothing ___but_ magic, and the picture was quite astounding. Every branch, every ___leaf_, shimmered with a silvery light. He could see every tiny detail, from the cracks and hairs in the bark to the stomata in the leaves. What's more, he could ___hear._ Not only the impatient rustling of the leaves, but also the owls hooting deep within the forest, the dormice scurrying through the field, the slight disturbances on the surface of the lake. He felt... ___Perfect._ He was taken aback at the thought, but there was no other word for it. Every fibre of his being tingled, itching to move, to dance... A new, raw energy flowed furiously through him, and soon, he could resist it no longer. With a cry of elation, he launched himself forwards, easily twisting his body in mid-air to avoid the Willow's slashing branches. With perfect precision he landed, spinning around then back-flipping to avoid another barrage of blows from the infuriated Willow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another thick branch swinging towards him, almost in slow motion. He contemplated dodging, then a smile began to play on his lips as he thought of something else. Drawing himself up, he waited for the huge branch to draw closer, searing through the air. Only when it had almost reached him did he act. Calmly, he concentrated all of his energy into the palm of his hand, and braced himself for the contact.

His feet slid a few feet backwards from the force of the impact, but he felt nothing. It was as though he had caught only air, despite the fact that the blow would have killed him had it landed.

The tree ceased its movements for a moment, apparently at a loss as to how to react. Then, it reacted in the only way it knew how. It attacked. In moments, a formidable array of limbs and vines were hurtling through the air towards Waffles. This time, however, he was different. He released the branch in his hand and closed his eyes in order to concentrate, searching within him for the core of his energy, for the key to his new power. It wasn't long before he found it. He hesitated for a moment, then released it.

The result was cataclysmic.

In a second, he became a flurry of motion. Instantaneously he perceived everything around him. Waffles crouched, then sprang upwards, spinning and whirling his arms with incredible accuracy. Around him the air began to fill with splintered branches and swirling leaves as Waffles leapt into the air and brought his legs into play. A branch as think as he was snapped in two from a violent roundhouse kick, then a bunch of vines were snapped in half by a fierce, flurried slash from his hands. But for every limb Waffles smashed, split or splintered, there was another to take its place. The seemingly invincible Willow drove on relentless. However, Waffles was not to be denied. As the tree began its final barrage, its largest and highest branches Springing into action, Waffles landed in the small clearing among the detritus and planted one hand on the ground, coiling his body up like a spring. He waited, persistently increasing the tension in his body until the last possible moment. For a split second, the world seemed to stand still. A few droplets of sweat from Waffles' brow froze, suspended in mid air as the compacted ground beneath his hand began to sink under the astronomic pressure. Finally, Waffles pushed off the ground, his arms extended and his body rotating at such a pace as to draw in the air around him. Before long, the twigs and splinters on the ground levitated and joined them, a tornado of swirling debris. As the first branches struck the vortex it began to rotate faster, causing them to glance off harmlessly. Even the monstrous branches from the top of the tree sank only a few inches into its gyrating depths before being shrugged off with ease, to crash harmlessly into the ground.

With a sigh, Waffles allowed his feet to return to the ground, his defensive wall of debris following his lead. He looked around to assure himself that nothing was moving anymore. As he did so, a thought struck him.

___He had defeated the Whomping Willow._ No-one had ever made it past the Willow, let alone fought with it and lived. But now not only had he fought with it for the umpteenth time and survived, but he had ___won._

___However... The staff might not be all that pleased with me,_ He pondered as he eyed the mess around him. With a sigh, he walked over to the trunk of the tree and placed his hand on it softly. What he felt surprised him. Although he could see the light which the tree was giving off from its magical energy, he never would have expected it to be so warm. Or ___soft_. It's apparently rough bark was covered in a thin layer of some kind of fur, leaving it with a finish almost as smooth as velvet. With a smile, he patted its great trunk affectionately. It had left him battered and bruised many a time, and now that had been paid back in full. He had the most bizarre feeling that the Willow felt it, too: That they were even. Leaning forward, he gently whispered his thanks to the tree for allowing him to train with it, and for being, in its own way, his companion. And with that, he left for bed. At no point did he feel the need to check that the tree was not assailing his unprotected back. Its reaction to his touch had said it all: It had come to respect him.

___You better be ready for me, Slinkhard. _He thought to himself as he strode back towards the castle.___Because... Here I come._

******May 7, 1984. 6:00 p.m.**

"No, no! What on Earth are you talking about? The motion of the wand should always, ___always,_ mirror the nature of the spell behind it. My word, Charlie. One day you're going to ___seriously_ hurt yourself." Waffles sounded very much like a schoolteacher as he lectured his friend, who mock-scowled.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. So..." He leaned over the table so as to whisper, causing the rest of the group to lean in as well.

"I hear you're going to be taking on Slinkhard this Saturday. All right if I invite a few people?"

"Invite... Who, exactly? And will they be wanting cookies? I'm probably going to be making some later this week, anyway, but just in case it's always nice to know numbers..."

"No, they won't want cookies. Well they might, but... Dammit! That's not important!" Waffles looked at him as though he was mad, the words "___not important?_" forming on his lips.

"Anyway, it's just a few friends from charms club. Oh, and my sister and her friends."

"Actually, my cousin was thinking of joining – is it okay if he tags along?"

"Oh yeah! I've had a few people ask..."

Waffles sighed. ___I suppose I should have seen this coming. Ah, well. I'm sure it'll all turn out good in the end. I _am___a performer, after all._

By the end of dinner, Waffles felt certain that he was going to need a bigger room for his upcoming match. He had only issued his challenge that morning.

"So... Feeling confident now?" Alicia asked after bidding her friends goodnight. Waffles was always the last to bed – apparently he did not require sleep.

"Confident enough, I think. His techniques are impressive, but my new wand's pretty good. Also..." He stopped himself suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." He laughed. "Actually, no. That doesn't make sense. The human mind is incapable of the concept of ___nothing_, therefore it really isn't a word which should be used in that context. How about 'wait and see'?" He added, gazing up at the ceiling.

Alicia narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if she could talk him into telling her, then decided against it. She probably could, but it was late and she was tired. She'd find out whatever it was on Saturday, anyway.

"Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow. By the way..." Waffles' eyes returned to her as she paused, " do you ___ever_ go to bed?"

"Sometimes," he smiled. "Well, off you go to bed, then. Big day tomorrow!"

"What's happening tomorrow?" She cocked her head to one side.

"Double Defence against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors." He grinned. "I hear we're going to be studying curse defences tomorrow." He paused for a moment, posing with his hand on his chin so as to appear deep in thought.

"Hmm, do you fancy skipping it, or shall we go in anyway and see if we can earn some bonus house points?" Alicia laughed.

"We don't really need the points, but why not? Oh! I am ___so_ going to partner Gladius – he needs to be knocked down a peg or two for that comment in potions earlier." She laughed again, and Waffles felt his heart sink slightly.

"I look forward to seeing it," he said, perfectly faking a broad smile.

Waffles waited until the sound of footstep up the stairs to the girls' dormitory had faded before glancing around the room to ensure no-one else was still up. ___Well, here we go again. _He thought to himself as he rose to his feet and started to bounce gently on his toes. His hands were still bandaged from the previous night, and he was covered in bruises, about which his classmates had no clue. However, as always it was far too tempting. Silent as a mouse, he crept over to the secret door, pulled it open, and stepped outside.

Only to find that he was not alone.

A gargantuan, heavily bearded man stood in the corridor, leaning against the opposite wall. He wore a huge, tattered brown trench coat and massive dragon-hide boots.

"H-Hagrid? What are you doing here? Don't mind me, I'm just on my way to the , ah..." He trailed off nervously. Hagrid looked at him sternly at first, then his gaze softened.

"You know, I was like you when I was at Hogwarts. Always sneakin' out to wrestle trolls in the forest, an' dangerous stuff like tha'. Never really grew out of it, ter be honest." He sighed. "But with you... I reckon you need ter think about things a little more, you know. Yer a prefect, after all."

Waffles looked at him in confusion.

"Hold on... What are you talking about?"

"Look, Waffles, I like you. I think yer a decent bloke an' all tha', but, well..." He cast his eyes downwards, causing Waffles' jaw to drop in surprise.

"Could you lay off'f the Whompin' Willow fer a bit, please?" Hagrid said this rather hastily, then continued, "I wouldn' ask, but y'know, I had a hard time explainin' to Dumbledore when I found it this mornin'."

Waffles stared at him in amazement.

"Hold on... How did you know that that was me? I thought my cloaking charm was perfect." He asked, all pretence abandoned.

"You don' need ter be able to see you ter know somethin's up when the Willow starts thrashing abou' halfway through the night. Not from my house, anyway. An' you don' need ter be a genius ter know tha' you're the only one who could cause tha' much damage withou' usin' magic. O' course, if you'd have used magic the teachers'd've known abou' it."

"Look, waffles. I'm not tellin' yer to stop goin' out fer a bit o' practice, especially with yer match agains' that little cockroach Slinkhard comin' up, jus' lay off'f the Willow fer a bit. Okay?"

Waffles was flabbergasted, and could scarcely muster an apology.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry about that, Hagrid old chap."

"Don' worry abou' it." Hagrid replied, his huge face spreading into a broad grin. "Say, those trolls are getting' ter be a bit of a nuisance, though. Reckon you could go an' sort them out for me?"

Waffles couldn't help but laugh.

"Of course not! Just point me in the right direction."

Hagrid began to go into the details of the layout of the forest as they walked, and Waffles quickly remembered to put a cloaking charm about himself lest they be confronted by any of the more responsible members of staff.

It seemed as though Hagrid, far from being angry at Waffles for damaging the Whomping Willow, was happy to have found someone he could trust to share the secrets of the forest with, without having to worry about them getting hurt. A situation which suited Waffles just fine. After all, he had never fought trolls before.

Panting, Waffles put his wand away. ___Focus_... He cast his mind back to the Duelling Club hall three days before. ___I felt it then; I know I did..._ He glanced about him. Two trolls lay, defeated, several feet away from him. However, they were not the reason for his breathlessness. He had defeated them without too much trouble, not even needing to use his wand. However, when another five had shown up he had started having difficulties. The trolls were huge, each one at least twelve feet tall and almost half as wide. Their skin, if it could be called that, ranged from stone-grey to a disgusting brown-green, which put Waffles in mind of something unspeakable. They all wore some form of clothing, though precisely where they had found it Waffles couldn't have said. ___Wherever it is, _I___certainly wouldn't set foot in the store._ He thought to himself with a smile. One of the trolls raised a ham-like hand to its face, in what Waffles could only assume was an attempt to scratch its wide, squashed nose.___They're certainly stupid, ugly and violent, but I still think they're misunderstood_, Waffles thought to himself as he recalled a debate he'd had in a Care of Magical Creatures lesson earlier in the year. ___Well, at least a little bit._ He looked around again.

___Hagrid said there were eight... Where's the last one?_ He leapt to one side, rolling to break his fall, as one of the newcomers aimed a massive blow at his head with a gigantic club. He got to his feet shakily, starting to doubt his decision to refrain from using his new-found powers in an attempt to develop another new technique.

"My, my... It was tiring enough just ___getting_ here... Ah, well. I suppose it can't be helped."

As he had a habit of doing when he was concentrating, Waffles shut his eyes and put his hands together, as though he were praying. Around him, the trolls began to close in.

___I can feel it... I know I can. But... This is different. This is... This is it!_

"Yes, Poppy?" Professor Dumbledore answered the knock by addressing the knocker. The door opened.

"Professor. It's about the Waffling boy." Madam Pomfrey had grown accustomed to the Headmaster's apparent ability to see through walls, and was thus unsurprised that he had been able to identify her through the door.

"The tracer ___is_ still in place?" Professor Dumbledore asked, quietly. Madam Pomfrey's bottom lip quivered slightly.  
"Yes, sir. Well, we can't see any reason why it should not be. It's just..."

"Yes?" His voice grew quieter, and Madam Pomfrey began to stutter.

"I-it's showing the infection as being, well... Everywhere."

"I thought it was contained within the wand's core?"

"it was, sir. That's what we can't understand. But we've checked the other monitors, and the fragments don't seem to be there any more. It's just... Disappeared."

"Disappeared? What do you mean?" The Headmaster's voice grew graver.

"Well sir... We have reason to believe that the core has been... Absorbed." She cast her eyes down to avoid his. Even though she knew he would not be angry, she still did not want to hear the inevitable.

"And the core itself?"

"We can't be sure. However, since the infection has been spread throughout the body, we concluded that it must have settled in the source of the bloodstream."

Dumbledore sighed. He was beginning to doubt his decision to "wait and see". However,

"Has he shown any signs of-"

"Oh no, sir! He seems perfectly fine..." She trailed off as she realised she had interrupted the Headmaster. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Fear not, my dear." he smiled. "I'm sure everything will be fine. If he is showing no signs of stress, I think we can assume that there's nothing to worry about too much. For now, at least. Is there anything else?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"Very well, then. I think I'd best not keep you any longer, then. Thank you for coming to see me."

She bowed, and took her leave, her relief visible on her knew he would be able to set her mind at ease.

As Madam Pomfrey left, Dumbledore sat back into his chair and sighed inaudibly. ___Well, well. This is the first time I've seen something like this... I hope it works out. After all, from here the consequences could be anything... Anything at all._

___There!_ Waffles snapped his head up as he felt the familiar surge of energy. Leaping backwards, he fired off a quick shield charm to deflect a large rock thrown by one of his hulking opponents. He blinked in surprise. ___It had come so naturally._ He had not expected it to be so easy as that. Grinning, he began an incantation. Even the trolls seemed a little surprised. Even ___they_, he decided, had probably learned to associate magic with wands. To see someone using it with their wand in its sheath must have come as quite a shock.

Finishing his incantation, Waffles concentrated once more on drawing the shards of his old wand together within him, feeding them with energy as he did so. The trolls began to close in again just he completed the process. His hands began to crackle with energy, as lightning began to pass between the tips of his fingers. In the palms of his hands, white orbs of light began to manifest, fed by the lightning. Staring straight as his opponents, Waffles clamped his hands shut.

The compressed energy screamed to be let out, causing Waffles to grit his teeth in concentration. He waited, panting, as the pressure reached its peak, then hurled himself at the closest troll, just as it raised its club over its head to strike. He kept his hands balled into fists until the last possible moment, then twisted to the left, slamming his left palm into the side of the troll's ribcage. It bellowed in pain as the energy surged from Waffles' palm to its torso, and was violently flung sideways, to crash into one of its comrades and land in a heap, both of them unconscious from the shock.

___Two down... But I only have one shot left. Unless..._ He sighed, focusing his energy once again. The remaining trolls grouped together at a safe distance and prepared to charge. Slowly, Waffles brought his hands together, concentrating only on keeping the energy in his hand. He knew that if the technique was released too early, the consequences could be disastrous. Painstakingly slowly, he opened up his right hand and placed the two together. As he did so, the trolls charged.

A single bead of sweat began to roll down the side of his face as he concentrated furiously on containing the pressure. Then he felt it begin to spread.

He drew his hands apart then, lightning crackling from one to the other, until they were spread almost as wide as they could be, the lightning spread out in a wide curve in front of him. With a cry, he wrenched his palms outwards, severing the connection between them instantly. He reacted instantly, controlling and manipulating the energy from both hands at once in order to arc the lightning towards the charging trolls. The result was almost instantaneous.

There was a bright flash, as the bolts branched into thousands of smaller ones and met their targets. The massive trolls howled as they were lifted bodily into the air and flung backwards through the trees, their trunk-like limbs smashing branches like twigs. Soon, though, they were out of sight. Waffles very much doubted that they would return. Even trolls knew when they were beaten.

___Still... I could've sworn Hagrid said eight... So where...?_ He shrugged, and had made the decision to start heading back, when the ground beside him exploded.

He flung himself to one side, grazing himself badly on the rough surface as he landed, the flipped himself back to his feet and summoned a swift gust of wind to clear away the dust from the explosion. It became evident straight away what had caused it.

A boulder, at least as large across as any of the trolls he had just fought were tall, lay buried in the ground only inches away from where he had been stood only moments ago. Quick as a flash, Waffles' sharp eyes began to drat around the clearing, searching for the source of the boulder.

It wasn't hard to spot. Conveniently, it also solved the mystery of the missing eighth troll. This one, however, was very dissimilar to the others.

Its hide (it ___definitely_ couldn't be called skin, in this one's case) was dark brown, and concealed muscled which Waffles felt sure were going to burst out at any moment. Its twenty foot frame was covered with the furs of animals Waffles felt sure he would have run away from had he ever encountered them, and its club was spiked with the teeth of said animals, each of which was as long as Waffles' forearm. The creature glared at him with huge, bloodshot eyes for a moment, then threw back its massive, monstrous head and let out a blood-curdling roar.

Waffles winced at the sound, then allowed his mind to race as he tried to calculate how to defeat this new opponent. Most of his energy was spent already – the lightning technique was incredibly tiring. The ground shook as the troll began to stamp towards him, grunting angrily. Waffles sighed.

"There really isn't anything else, is there? Very well." He searched within himself for the power once more, and was astounded at how much more quickly it came once called than before. He leapt backwards into a tall tree, so as to stand eye-to-eye with the troll.

"Very well." he repeated. "Let us see... Which of us is stronger!"

It felt so easy. Even though the troll was not magical by nature, he could read its movements easily. Every time a muscle contracted, he saw it. Every time its weight shifted, or it pushed harder against the ground in preparation for a charge, he knew. It was all so easy. He laughed at the thought of himself worrying only a few moment before. This was nothing to be afraid of... In fact, this was just plain ___nothing. _The troll howled in frustration as it brought its club down once more on Waffles, who surprised it by leaping ___into_ its attack. Grinning, he swung like a monkey up onto the shaft of the club, pushing off from it only moments before it slammed into the ground and causing it to bury itself so deep that even its mighty wielder could not free it. He soared upwards towards the troll, and grabbed ahold of the front of its clothes in order to aim a massive kick at its chin, which sent it careering upwards and left a piece of tattered fur in Waffles' hand. He landed on a wide tree branch, the launched himself forwards again, slamming into the troll while it was still in mid-air and raining down upon it with a series of rapid strikes.

The troll slammed into a tree, howling in pain, and swung a massive fist at Waffles, who simply hopped onto the fist and used it as a platform to launch another attack. The troll thrashed to its feet, forcing him to back off for a moment, and hurled a fallen tree at him, which he promptly dodged.

___This is getting a little dangerous. Perhaps I'd better end it._ Dodging another gargantuan fist, Waffles kicked off the ground so hard that it cracked, flying high above the troll's head as it busied itself trying to extract its fist from the ground. Waffles gave one last battle cry as he fell towards it, somersaulting repeatedly and allowing his foot to gather tremendous speed, before slamming his heel down on the troll's skull.

There was a resounding crack, and the troll's eyes crossed for a moment, then... ___Thud._

It was over.

Waffles landed gracefully a few metres away, then winced as his right leg gave way. Even when charged with power, it still couldn't quite handle that kind of impact just yet. Still, though, he was pleased with the night's progress. He had discovered a new ability; one which would definitely be of use to him in his upcoming battle against his rival. And he had discovered that even in his empowered state, he could still be harmed – a discovery which was far better made sooner than later.

He began to hum as he strode back towards Hagrid's house. He would have whistled, but he had never learned how.

Well, that's that. As always, please review - I might write faster if you do. And I'm not lying to get more reviews here, it really does help to get some feedback. I promise.

Well, whatever. The important thing is that I'm letting you guys choose what the next chapter will be! If you choose more of the same, to finish this part off, then that's what you'll get (and it might be a little quicker as it's already started) or a continuation of the main plot, in which case I'll get to work right away but it might take a little longer.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this and I look forward to hearing what you thought!

Yours,

-Gem.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review – I sometimes find myself wanting to leave this for a while and do other stuff, but you guys make me carry on :) - So thanks!


	6. Chapter 5

Okay! Well, apologies for taking such a bloody long time to get this out; it's been what, a year? Two? Anyway, I'm back now (temporarily, with upcoming exams, though I'll probably have plenty of free time over summer).

Quick note before I get started; FF has messed up the formatting of the other chapters by removing the spaces and asterisks I used to separate different settings and time lines. I tried re-uploading them, but to no avail. So now, every time I change setting, I will put a new line with "SCENE X" (X denoting the scene no.) on. Hopefully that won't get edited out.

So, without further ado, let's get to it.

Also, I understand that with the way I am planning on playing the next few chapters out, the time line as far as the HP universe is concerned may be somewhat warped. Please assume that, for the purposes of this story, the final battle for Hogwarts took place when the eighth movie came out last year, meaning that Harry was born in 1994 (I think; my maths might be a bit messed up).

**Chapter 5: A Promise To No One.**

SCENE ONE

**May 8, 1984. 9:15 a.m.**

"Well, that went well." Waffles grinned as he sat down at the Ravenclaw table, picking up a strawberry from the selection of fruits and berries spread out for breakfast, which he proceeded to deftly toss into the air and catch in his mouth – leaning so far back as he did so that he almost fell from his seat. Righting himself, he quickly looked around at his friends.

"What, nobody wants to know what went well?" He enquired, a single eyebrow raised quizzically.

"I think we were all just curious as to what would happen if we didn't indulge you." Alicia responded with a sly smile. Waffles narrowed his eyes momentarily in mock-anger, then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Mutiny! Grrrhahaha! Why is everything _so_ much funnier when you're trying not to laugh?!"

"I don't know. Maybe your brain's just messed up from the amount of times you've been hit in the head at those barbaric summer classes you take." She responded disapprovingly. Alicia never did see the appeal of physical combat – no matter how hard Waffles tried to convince her to give Muggle martial arts a try.

"Possible, I suppose – though it's really only Master Inosanto who can land anything on me any more. I'm like a ninja!" Waffles sprang up onto the table at the word "ninja", back-flipping off and landing in a deep, traditional Kung-Fu stance.

"Sure you are." She drawled, unfazed by the display of gymnastics. Sarcasm dripped from her words so thickly it was almost visible. "Anyway, leaving this inexplicable conversational tangent behind us, _what_, precisely, was it that went well?"

Waffles sank back into his seat, his grin broadening.

"I thought you'd never ask! Well, you know I'm duelling Slinkhard this Saturday?"

"No. It definitely isn't the _only thing anyone's been talking about all week_."

"My dear, you turn sarcasm into an art form. Anyway, that was exactly the problem I'd been having in organising the thing: _everyone_ was talking about it. We'd never fit the whole school into the duelling hall. So, I had a chat with Professor Dumbledore, to ask if we could use the Great Hall."

"And?"

"He said no." Everyone's expectant faces dropped. Alicia narrowed her eyes.

"I thought you said it went _well?_" Waffles chuckled.

"It did. I'm getting to that. He said he didn't think the Hall would be a good place for something like that; something about there being too many expensive breakables and enchantments floating around which could mess things up. Instead, he offered us the Quiddich pitch-" This was met with a chorus of cheers and high-fives

"–on the condition that the entire staff be extended invitation as well, to 'ensure things don't get out of hand'. I think he wants to keep an eye on us, you know, make sure I don't break old Slinker." Everyone laughed, and started cheering and whooping again. Soon, the entire hall was buzzing with the news of the duel's new venue, rumours about what the two combatants-to-be were planning and predictions on who would win. Everyone seemed very pleased with the change of venue – even the new caretaker, Filch – who would have to do far less cleaning-up following an outdoor event.

With everyone thus occupied in gossip, Waffles took the opportunity for an aside with his friends.

"Okay everyone," he whispered, motioning for them to gather in,

"I'll be straight with you. I'm pretty confident about this one, but I'm not a hundred per cent. I mean, there's a reason I haven't beaten this guy yet. So I'm gonna need your help if I'm going to take him down this time around. Can I count on you?" A chorus of hushed affirmatives greeted him.

"Okay, great. In that case, I need all of you to meet me in the common room at... Shall we say seven o'clock? Can everyone make that?" Another round of "yes'"

"Wonderful. All right, I'll see you all there. Try not to be late; practice time is _crucial!"_ With that, he stood up, swivelled on the spot and started to walk away. With an exasperated sigh, Alicia bid the others farewell, gathered up her things and started after him.

Just as she began to make her way down the corridor towards the Ravenclaw common room, Waffles' voice chimed in from behind her.

"You know, you really need to be more observant." Whirling around, she saw him leaning against the smooth stone wall, just beside the hall's entrance. His arms were crossed over the black school robes which, like all his wizard clothes, he'd had expertly tailored to fall just above his feet, so that they cloaked his stance from others' eyes while at the same time being high enough as to not risk him tripping over them. His hat, on the other hand, was the epitome of impracticality, its "point", if you could call it that, sagging almost as low as the brim which covered one eye due to the jaunty angle at which the thing was tipped. Still, it kept his long, shaggy hair out of his other eye so at least he could see – if only in two dimensions.

"Who said I was looking for _you_?" Alicia remarked haughtily.

"My apologies," Waffles stood up, brushing his hat back to reveal his other dark brown eye, now glinting with a hint of gold – which only added to his mischievous look, "must be my 'messed up' brain acting up again. So, assuming that you_ weren't _looking for me, where are you off to in such a hurry?" Alicia shot him a glare, then dropped her head in submission.

"Okay, fine. I was looking for you. That was a pretty mysterious vibe you left in there."

"I know. Pretty sexy, huh?" He winked, the mischievous smile returning once more to its natural habitat on his face.

"I _will_ punch you. Seriously, though. What are you planning?"

"That," he whispered as he drew closer, his eyes narrowed and shifting from side to side in mock-suspicion, "is what I intend to tell everyone later, in a more... _Private_ setting." He motioned his head to one side, so slightly it was scarcely a twitch, but Alicia knew what he meant. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw Jonathan, one of Slinkhard's fan club, hiding inexpertly behind one of the pillars to the side of the entrance to the Great Hall.

"I see. You know, Waffles, maybe you _are_ kind of smart after all."

"Why thank you, kind madam." He said with a bow, earning him a momentary giggle from Alicia.

"For an utter nutcase, that is." She added, still smiling. "Come on, we have a potions class to get to."

"Oh, _joy._ Two hours of the Slug Club parade, what better way to start the day?" He groaned, allowing Alicia to lead him off by the arm. "Still, it could be worse. We could be members!" He proclaimed as they marched off down the corridor, laughing together as they went.

-SCENE TWO-

**May 8, 1984. 7:15 p.m.**

"Well, we're all here. And only fifteen minutes late! Good work, Steve!" Waffles winked at the latest arrival - and one of his closest friends, Stephen Mortimer. He, along with his twin brother Colin, were both fifth years along with Waffles, and had supported Waffles' idea to start a Duelling Club even before he'd discussed it with Professor Flitwick. As such the twins, Waffles and Alicia were considered the founders of the club. Three others were present, all fellow Ravenclaws. Charlie, a shy, nerdy fourth-year whom Waffles had taken under his wing as protegee after he'd approached him one year previously and, shaking like a leaf, asked if there was any possibility of getting duelling lessons, as his Defence Against The Dark Arts grades were low and no amount of studying seemed to help. A year later he still had a lot to learn, but had transformed from a quivering boy with little natural talent to a wizarding force to be reckoned with. Lucy, a tiny, pixie-like sixth year girl with bright pink hair who had dazzled everyone in the club's early days with her ingenious use of both simple and complex charms and transfigurations to ensnare her opponents, and Dan, the powerful seventh-year who towered half a foot over everyone else present. He had similarly impressed everyone early on by showing a blend of strength and refinement, choosing to cast sophisticated layers of spells to confuse his opponents rather than going for the obvious tactic of overpowering them.

None of them had so far succeeded in defeating Slinkhard, though all had tried. However, between the seven of them they had the skills required to defeat not only him, but anyone in the world – and they knew it. That was part of the reason why they were all so close. They knew the only way to truly master each style was to learn it from someone to whom it came naturally. Under the twins they learned the art of illusion, something they had developed an interest in after years of switching places in the name of practical humour. From Lucy, they learned clever transfiguration tricks: How to turn simple floorboards into writhing vines which would snatch at your opponents' feet, or how to animate a suit of armour so that you could work on more complicated spells as it fought for you. Dan shared with them the art of multi-casting: of blending the incantations of two spells so that they would activate instantaneously – a technique which was most difficult to learn alone, as, if attempted incorrectly, it could often end in disaster. Even young Charlie was able to introduce the others to some nifty potion recipes which would clear their minds and quicken their thoughts in battle.

It took Alicia a few years to find her niche after the club started. For a while she just dabbled, trying bits of everything – with varying levels of success – until she tried summoning for the first time. After that, it was obvious she'd found her calling. From inanimate objects such as walls and swords to flocks of swallows and even, most recently, her phoenix Celestina (who was currently perched serenely on the mistress' shoulder) everything came naturally to her. Literally.

As for Waffles, well, he really did dabble. On the surface it would seem as though his forte was counter-spells, since he could counter or dispel almost any technique thrown at him with relative ease. However, in reality his true strength lay in his talent for unifying different techniques. He was like a sponge, absorbing every piece of useful information available to him – be it a new spell, or trick, or even an extra little twiddle of his wand which would lend a smidgeon of extra power, he would remember it. At the same time, though, he recognised how equally vital it was to dismiss anything which was ineffective (something which most students failed to consider; if a professor taught it, everyone just assumed it worked.) In a way, having little natural power made him more powerful than any of the others – purely because he had to compensate for it by studying and practising until he could block or counter almost every spell, hex or curse in existence and becoming so devilishly cunning that he was perfectly unpredictable. He could easily have been considered the most useful mentor of all, since after training with him nothing any other opponent did could possibly hold any surprise for the others. _He_ still could, though. Even after several years, no one could second-guess Waffles. He liked that.

Of course, there _was_ one other who fought like Waffles: Michelangelo. His name was actually just Michael, but Waffles had nicknamed him after the Ninja Turtle, and it had stuck – for good reason. The boy practically channelled him. He'd moved to England from Santa Barbara only a few months before starting Hogwarts after his parents, adamant that their son attend the best wizarding school in the world, applied for an international scholarship. Apparently you could get those; who knew?

In a matter of days, his world was turned upside down. He'd had to leave behind his whole life in America, move to a completely new country and start up at a school which he hadn't even known existed until two months prior to starting there, to learn _magic_ of all things (his parents were muggles). And his biggest concern upon being told all of this?

"I bet the pizza there is going to_**suck**__."_

However, upon arriving he found that it really wasn't _so_ bad once you got used to it, and after joining the Duelling club a few months after its opening he quickly learned that being at Hogwarts could be pretty fun, too.

He and Waffles were friends before anyone else even realised they'd met. They shared the same relaxed, carefree attitude, the same mischievous streak – and, more to the point, the same duelling style. As a Muggle-born, Michael didn't have as much magic in his blood as most of the others, so like Waffles he needed an alternative duelling style to the norm (beating each other down with the most powerful spells you can muster until one person is too exhausted to carry on of fails to block something properly). The fact that Waffles could throw together a mean pizza when he'd a mind to never hurt, either!

So of course when Waffles told him that he was going to be getting the group together for some impromptu training that evening, he'd signed himself up in a heartbeat.

"Come in! We're just getting ready to go." Called Waffles upon hearing a knock at the door, waving it open with his new wand, which he'd decided to name Jim. No one asked why; by this point they'd learned that it was much easier to simply accept his little eccentricities.

With a slight creak, the door swung open and in bounded one scruffy, hyper and unquestionably crazed Michelangelo. He'd clearly been drinking coffee that day, possibly among other things.

"Hi guys! How's it going?" He asked in his husky, upbeat New York accent. His face was split by a broad smile as he flopped down into a large, comfortable armchair, draped himself backwards over the arms and appraised the now upside-down gathering of people.

"Right! Who gave Mikey caffeine?!" Dan demanded in a mock-serious tone. The others laughed at this (and also possibly at Michelangelo, who at this point had slid head-first down the arm to the point of being unable to stop himself from falling to the ground in a heap. He stayed, there for a moment, possibly considering precisely which life decisions had brought him to this point, the sprung back up so he was sitting cross-legged in the circle the others had made.)

"I think I speak for everyone when I say it's going fairly well, though I do have a favour I'd like to ask of everyone." Answered Waffles, looking around at his friends. While outwardly I might _look_ like I'm completely ready to face Slinkhard, in reality I still have a long way to go. That technique he pulled against Alicia," he motioned to her as she said this, and she acknowledged with a silent nod as Celestina bristled at the memory, "was unlike anything I've ever seen him do. He's clearly been practising a lot, so I'll need to be ready for anything. If you're up for it, I'd be very grateful if you'd all once again take up wands and join my preparation team. Maybe, with a little luck, this will be the time we finally win this thing. For Ravenclaw!"

"For Ravenclaw!" They echoed. "For Gryffindor," Proclaimed Michelangelo conspicuously, to glares from the others. He grinned in response.

"Yes, for Gryffindor as well." Waffles acquiesced. "Frankly, for anyone who has been consistently irritated by Slinkhard's ability to amaze and astound us at how terrible a sportsman he is." There was a chorus of assenting comments, and Waffles sprang to his feet.

"Well, then!" He declared, clapping his hand together sonorously, "There is no time to lose! To the training room!"

By this of course Waffles did _not_ mean the Duelling club practice room in the dungeons. After all, what use was secret training if it was done in a public place? No, Waffles had a very different place in mind for this particular session – a room he and Michelangelo had stumbled upon the previous year while fleeing from the old caretaker (he had spotted them exiting the kitchens with several very full-looking boxes. What he didn't know was that rather than stealing food they were in fact utilising the cooking facilities themselves to throw together the prerequisite components of a pizza party, but one can understand how the picture would look from an outsider's perspective) and had since customised to suit their group's needs. Curiously enough, while the first time they had entered the room it had been filled with an assortment of junk (thus facilitating the act of hiding marvellously), when Waffles had returned to see if the room could be cleared out and converted to a training space it had all but been done for them. It was somehow bigger, for a start, with easily enough room for the whole group to practice in without getting in each others' way, as well as a larger duelling platform in the centre for demonstrations. Even the walls were lined either with mirrors for monitoring form or with bookshelves containing a number of tomes outlining various techniques and tricks which would prove useful in combat (though the group would later, upon leaving Hogwarts, donate some of their personal favourites to the already extensive library contained within the room so that the next generation of duellists would be able to benefit from the same knowledge as their predecessors, though after their departure from the school it would be a good many years indeed before it would be used for combat practice again.)

Upon arriving and performing the now automatic up, down-and-back-again walk along the corridor in order to "summon" the entrance to the training room, Waffles wasted no time in getting down to business.

"All right, everyone, we all know why we're here. I'm pretty good at the whole scrapping thing, if I do say so myself - but in order to win _this_ one, I'm going to need to have as many techniques under my belt as possible. That's where you all come in. Everyone here is the best at what they do." there was a mixture of modest nods and embarrassed shaking of heads at this. Waffles continued,

"In order to defeat Slinkhard this Saturday, I'm going to need to know everything you know. Illusions, Transfiguration, Multi-casting, Charming, Summoning and, yes, even potion-mixing." He locked eyes with each member of the group as he described their speciality. "If it might be useful, then we must assume it will be. I know we usually pool our knowledge anyway, but for this I'm going to require the very best spells, combinations and dirty tricks you can think of. The crème de la crème, as the French say (probably). I know it's selfish of me to ask this, but hey, at least I brought cookies!" At that, he motioned to a large silver tin which had appeared on one of the tables near the bookshelves, seemingly by magic – though that would have contradicted Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

"Feel free to help yourselves" he added, grinning, to a chorus of cheers. "So, everyone up for a week of hardcore training?"

"Sure." Responded Michelangelo. "I'd offer to be a jinxing bag if it got me free food. Where are we starting?" He asked almost unintelligibly through a disgracefully large bite of cookie.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping _you'd_ be up for a sparring session to warm up, since I did just spend a week in the hospital wing. I fear I may be a little rusty and you're usually the best one to test myself against, since we're more or less the same person in the arena."

Michelangelo laughed at that.

"You're right there! Well, except for the fact that I'm way better looking!" With that he sprung, laughing, up the steps onto the platform in the centre of the room, drew out his wand and took up a ridiculously exaggerated mockery of Waffles' martial arts-esque stance. "Come face your doom, Adalbert Waffling. If you dare." He boomed in his best faux-British accent. It was still fairly poor.

With a whisper, Waffles levitated himself up until he was just above the platform, then gently lowered himself to land gracefully opposite his sparring partner.

"Very well, then. Shields up, everyone," The others wordlessly drew their wands and, forming a ring around the platform, cast a collective shield charm to contain any stray spells or body parts within the arena. "Dan, on your count."

As the most sensible member of the group, Dan was generally given the task of group referee. It didn't bother him much, since he usually preferred to watch than duel anyway.

"Okay, everyone knows the rules by now so I'll skip that. Wands ready? Begin!"

As soon as they had entered the arena the two combatants had crouched down, mentally coiling themselves up like cobras about to strike. Upon hearing the referee's word, they launched themselves forward, roaring incantations as they did so. Waffles easily dodged Michelangelo's first hex, diving to the side, rolling and firing off a counter-spell from a crouch. Both duellists' first strikes dissipated harmlessly against the shield around the arena, as everyone knew they would. The first few spells were never meant to do anything more than see how the opponent responded. Sometimes Waffles and Michelangelo would skip this introduction and go straight into their main strategies, since they knew each other so well, but they both had some new tricks up their sleeves this time. Neither player was ready to show their hand just yet.

"Expelliarmus!" Shouted Michelangelo, sending a burst of red light towards Waffles' right hand. Waffles froze for a moment, not sure if he'd misheard, then chuckled, easily batting the disarming spell aside, and sent a handful of light hexes and jinxes his opponent's way as punishment for trying such a basic tactic on him.

"You weren't really expecting to catch me with _Expelliarmus_, were you?" Waffles asked in between incantations.

"Not really," Michelangelo replied after sending one of Waffles' hexes back at him, forcing him to lean backwards, Matrix-style, to avoid it. "But your reaction _are _pretty slow, so..." He trailed off, grinning, as Waffles' eyes glinted evilly.

"Slow, huh? Let's see who's slow NOW!" With that, Waffles launched himself at his opponent, blasting off several shots of energy while airborne which Michelangelo struggled to dodge, unable to catch his breath long enough to counterattack. With a flourish, Waffles landed on a few feet from his opponent and, without even giving him time to prepare a defense, slammed him with a freezing charm, a binding spell and a stunning spell all at once. The now-rigid boy stared at him with surprise for a moment, then started to... Disappear?

"Yo dude! Over here!" His eyes wide, Waffles whirled around to spot his completely unscathed friend leaning against the invisible wall around the arena, twirling his wand around his fingers. Waffles chuckled.  
"Not bad, Mikey. Not bad at all. One of Colin's, I'm guessing?" Outside the arena, the twin nodded, grinning. Only a handful of people knew the twins well enough to be able to tell one's handiwork apart from the other's. Waffles tried to turn around, only to find himself frozen in place. "And a simultaneous body-bind, too. We _have_ been practising. However," he said with his trademark mischievous grin, "not quite good enough." With that, he gave a rapid incantation – so rapid that the others did not even realise what he was doing until he was freed from the spell – and returned to his usual stance, his wand again at the ready.

"From the surprised look on your face, I'm guessing you didn't know you could substitute a spell-amplifier for the wrist-motion usually required to counter a body bind curse." Michelangelo shook his head, smiling.

"No, but I should have expected you to know that. I'm still winning, though." He responded, returning to_ his _usual stance – a far more orthodox one than Waffles', though it was still far removed from the norm – a trait common in all the group's members.

"Not quite." Waffles replied. "Because now _you_ can't move." With a flick of his wrist, Waffles demonstrated why. Immediately, Michelangelo felt the countless taut, sharp little strings pressing against him on every side. He was caught in a web, just as Alicia had been when she'd fought Slinkhard.

"Yes." Waffles broke the moment of realisation for all of them. Even though they couldn't see the strings, the spectators knew from Michelangelo's reaction what it was Waffles had done. "I found out how Slinkhard does his little spider's web trick. It's really not _that _complicated, though it does require a _lot_ of concentration. I don't think I'd be able to keep it up as well as a summoning. In fact, the only reason I _was_ able to use it here is because the amplifier I used to get out of the body-binder could be applied to this, too. Talk about a double-whammy" Waffles said with a wink, allowing the spell to dissipate. Michelangelo shook himself off for a moment.

"Wow, that was really _weird_. Like, I've been caught by binding spells before, but that was something new. How does it work?" He asked, completely unperturbed by his loss. It was clear to everyone present that neither of the two had been really taking this match seriously. If they had been, it would have been far messier. Six people were often not enough to maintain the shield when those two clashed, but with a major match so close and Waffles fresh out of the hospital wing, neither of them wanted to risk any injuries. This was essentially a game of chess, each testing the opponents to see who fell into whose trap.

"It's actually pretty simple. It's like you've taken the constituent parts of an incarcerus charm and unravelled them. Imagine for instance that your standard binding charm ties the target up with a rope. This thing unravels the rope into its constituent fibres and uses those instead. That's how you can cover a whole room with a single spell. It does, however, take a lot of concentration – and a lot of power – to pull off. That's why I had to use an amplifier. Could probably have done with a second, all things considered. That was rather tiring." Waffles slumped down into one of the comfortable desk-chairs and chomped down a cookie.

"Well, I'm warm, anyway. So, any constructive criticism?" He asked the group in general, knowing that everyone would probably have something to throw in.

"Well, you got duped by the illusion" Steve began. "All due credit to my little brother here," (he was born a few minutes earlier than Colin) "it was a pretty good one – but there are always tells. Firstly, the area around them is always a little warped, like, uh... Like the air above a candle. You know how it's always a little blurry..."

This continued for a few minutes, everyone giving their comments and solutions. Waffles remained silent throughout, stopping the others only occasionally to ask them to expand on a point or to ask a related question. That was, until the last person to speak, Michelangelo, chimed in.

"Plus, you know, you almost got caught with _Expelliarmus_, of all things. That would've been embarrassing." Waffles looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, unsure whether or not to say what he was thinking. _To hell with it_, he thought, _if I can't be honest with these guys, who can I be honest with?_

"Actually, I have something I'd like to try out, if you're up for it?"

"Sure." Michelangelo shrugged. "Though knowing you, I'll probably end up regretting this." Waffles laughed.

"I wouldn't worry about that. All I need you to do is disarm me. I promise not to try to deflect it."

"Come on, man, we've been over this." Michelangelo groaned exasperatedly, "swapping your wand to the other hand at the last second doesn't work, and catching it after the spell takes it away is impossible. Fankly, if it were possible the spell'd be worse than useless."

"No, look. I know that, I just... I just thought of something and I need you to disarm me so I can check to see if it works."

"Sure, whatever you say. But three sickles says you end up looking like a dumbass." With that, they took up their places on the platform once again. Immediately Waffles closed his eyes and began to focus, drawing on the glimmer of power he'd felt within himself since his old wand had shattered, trying to feel the pieces coming together like they had when he'd fought the trolls.

"You ready?" Michelangelo asked, his wand at the ready. After a few seconds, Waffles nodded.

"Then here goes nothing, I guess. _Expelliarmus!_"

The moment the wand left his hand, Waffles' eyes snapped open, his right arm snapping out so that his open palm faced the airborne weapon. He waited an extra moment, allowing the energy within himself to swell a little more, before shouting out,

"_Accio!"_ Everyone was silent. A few moments passed, then...

There was a light rattle as the wand fell to the ground near one of the corners of the room.

"_Accio!_" Waffles shouted again, to no avail. The wand remained stubbornly motionless. Waffles' head dropped a little.

"Well, you definitely owe me some silver, dude." Michelangelo piped up, with one eyebrow raised quizzically. "Here, let me give you a hand. _Accio." _The wand remained motionless.

"Clearly, summoning charms don't benefit from a Californian accent." Alicia drew her wand, a slightly amused expression on her face. "Let me give you a hand. _Accio wand._" Nothing happened.

After everyone else had given it a try, Waffles gave a chuckle.

"Well, at least I'm not the only one with performance issues today. I guess there's some kind of anti-summoning charm on this room. Weird."

"That is very weird," Alicia agreed. "But not as weird as you trying to do magic without a wand. What exactly were you thinking?" Waffles fell silent for a moment at this, staring at the brightly lit ceiling as he tried to find a way of explaining his discovery. After a moment of contemplation he shrugged away his doubt. There was no-one in the world, bar perhaps his family, whom he trusted more than the people present in the training room. If he couldn't be honest with them, who could he be honest with?

"Well, you know how I kind of, sort of, got into a fight with a bunch of Death Eaters and wound up in the hospital wing?" He asked rhetorically. Everyone nodded anyway.

"Well, when they said I was there because of a curse they'd hit me with they were only telling half the truth. Firstly, it wasn't just any spell. It was the big bad. The AK-47. You know. The one you're not supposed to be able to live through." This was met by gasps, and a moment of disbelief from everyone present. But of course it was Waffles, and when it came to serious things Waffles never lied. "But that's not the bit we're interested in. See, there was something else that isn't supposed to happen. When I tried to block the curse my wand shattered and the shards buried themselves in, well, me. My arm took most of it, but the splinters went everywhere. I even remember getting hit in the eye, though when I woke up everything seemed fine. And I don't mean fine like I recovered with a lot of attention from the wonderful healing staff here at Hogwarts. I mean fine as in _nothing happened in the first place._ But of course it all definitely _did_ happen and the super-crazy part is that ever since then, I've been able to... Feel... The shards, as though the broken little bits of wand were still working, in a way. So I decided to try it out. As you all know, I like to do little bits of private training here and there, yes? Well, I was sparring with one of my slightly less human partners and something rather odd started happening. For example, have you ever heard of anyone being able to _see_ magic? Because I'm fairly sure I can do that now. Also, in another instance I was able to use magic while my wand was still tucked away in my belt. Not just any old magic, either. Proper, full-power lightning bolt-shooting magic." He paused for a moment to let everything sink in._ "_Oh, and I think I have super-human strength now, since I essentially took on a troll chieftain in a fist fight the other day." He added matter-of-factly. "_Well_, I've always been able to beat a troll in a fight, but not without magic. Curious, isn't it?"

Everyone was silent for a moment, before the ever-unshakable Michelangelo broke the silence.

"Curious? Dude... That's freaking awesome! D'you reckon it works for all wands?" Waffles laughed wryly,

"I wouldn't recommend testing it. For all we know this was a total fluke. Frankly, if it always worked someone else would have discovered it by now. I mean, what are chances of no-one ever having accidentally hit their opponent's wand with a killing curse?" The others nodded in agreement.

"So... How exactly does it work? Using the broken wand to cast spells, I mean." Asked Dan. Being a seventh-year, he was the among the most experienced members of the duelling club, so when someone discovered a new technique or principle he was usually among the first to comprehend the theory behind it, even if he did not master it as quickly as others – that said, there was very little now that he had not come across himself. Waffles had known all along that his interest would be particularly piqued by this particular discovery.

"It's hard to explain," He answered slowly, "I suppose it isn't unlike regular casting, except I have to focus more intensively. It isn't like a standard spell where you have to focus on your wand motion – it's more like... I have to concentrate on mentally telling the broken wand what I want it to do. Hey, there's a thought!" He sprang back to his feet, causing the others to flinch back slightly – their circle around him had been steadily shrinking as he'd told his story.

"What if I don't need an incantation? What if I can just concentrate really hard on something, and..." Trailing off, he held out his right hand and shut his eyes. A moment later he felt his wand leap into it.

"...Make it happen?" He finished, opening his eyes. He put the wand away and put his hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"That's cool. And could definitely come in handy – excuse the pun – but is it _safe?_" Alicia asked, her brow furrowed slightly in concern.

"Right now I have no reason to think otherwise." Waffles answered, flashing a broad smile. "If it wasn't, the Hospital Wing staff would've said something about it. I wouldn't worry. Besides, I survived a freaking _killing curse. _If something was going to kill me I feel like that would have been it. Fate clearly doesn't want me dead just yet." He finished in a booming, prophetic voice. Alicia laughed at that.

"Well, since you put it that way... I suppose if having a bunch of splinters embedded in you was going to kill you it probably would have been in the first few hours following the incident, so the odds are probably in your favour at this point."

"Thanks, _Doctor Clarkson._ I'm sure your mother would be very pleased to know that you do indeed pay attention to all of the medical trivia she likes to fill your brain with."

"Hey, I'll have you know that in the muggle world, doctors are extremely well-respected, and-"

"I know, I know. She heroically saved your dad's life after a freak manticore attack. Still, you have to admit – our way is better for a lot of things. Anyway-" He derailed the train of conversation before Alicia could drag them all into a medical debate which she would inevitably end up winning, though no-one would quite understand how, "-That's besides the point. The fact of the matter is that _ I can now use magic without a wand_. I foresee a _lot_ of fun in our future. First things first, though. How can I use this to my advantage on Saturday? After all, it's hardly as though Slinkhard's likely to cast a disarming spell on me and throwing away my wand would just be counterproductive, even if it did give me the element of surprise."

"Do you really want to use this in that match? I mean, wouldn't that be against the rules somehow?" Asked Charlie, causing everyone else to burst into roars of laughter. Just as Charlie began to turn red, Waffles stepped over to him and, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder, gently shook his head.

"Oh Charlie, you poor innocent sod. You're too good for us, you know that?" He chuckled, then continued. "I should have mentioned this a _long_ time ago, don't know why I didn't, really – I suppose I didn't want to scare you off. See, the thing is – when we duel here, it's not just for fun. It's preparation for the big, bad world. And in the real world people don't follow rules. So if you think about it, the fewer rules we set the better, in keeping with the whole preparation thing, right?" Charlie nodded uncertainly.

"But surely it's important so be honourable, otherwise how are we any different from the Death Eaters?" Asked Charlie, frowning. Waffles smiled.

"Possibly. But then, if we only break the rules when fighting them, and only fight them because they torture and kill innocent people - magic and muggle – for sheer entertainment, I'd say there's quite a distinct difference, wouldn't you?"

Charlie opened his mouth as if to reply, then dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"Sorry? Whatever for? Look," Waffles lifted Charlie's chin to face him, "what was the first thing I ever taught you?"

"To never duel right after eating?"

"No, before that!" Charlie looked at the ceiling, trying to recall his first lesson with Waffles, before Waffles interrupted him.

"To never be afraid to questionanything and _everything_ that I teach you. Otherwise, what will you have learned in the end? Nothing, that's what!" He paused, glancing around the room at the others, who were watching bemusedly.

"All right everyone, I think it's time I shared something with you that I've been working on for a very long time indeed. To this day, I have absolutely no idea why no one else seems to have thought of this before – or at least thought of it and actually pursued it, but there you are. Perhaps I'm a fool. _Or_ perhaps I'm a _visionary!_ Either way, here it is. Charlie, in full fairness to you you were never present for any of the more... _Realistic_ training sessions, so you couldn't have been expected to know about the whole not following the rules thing. Although quite why you didn't pick up on it from the fact that we were all so interested in those mind-sharpening potions you kept brewing up even though they clearly _are_ against the rules I don't know. Either way," he continued, cutting off Charlie's imminent interruption, "it doesn't matter. We've covered fortifying potions, clothing charms for shielding and cloaking, exploding charms to turn marbles into high-powered bombs and weightlessness charms to enable a pair of boots to leap over city blocks. All, of course, completely against the club's rules" he added, winking at Charlie, who was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Darkness powders and invisible snare traps to allow easy retreat or prevent the opponent's, destabilising spells to collapse ceilings on a roomful of opponents and even those to open up the jaws of the Earth itself to swallow them whole, we have studied them all – and all of them are well and truly against the rules. However, there is one thing we haven't covered yet, even though it's by far the safest to practice: Physical combat."

The room was silent for a while, until Alicia broke it.

"You mean muggle fighting? If so, that's hardly safe. The number to patients my mother's seen who've been injured in barbaric bar brawls-"

"-I know that looks barbaric. But that, My dear," He caught her gaze in his own friendly yet powerful one, "is because they are doing it wrong. I, on the other hand, am going to teach you all how to do it _right!"_ With that, he leapt back up onto the arena, landing softly and spinning about to face his friends in a single fluid motion.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, old friend, but this is the _wizarding _world. We fight with magic. It's a little bit more effective than fists." Boomed Dan, to ineffectively concealed laughter from the others. Waffles raised a lone eyebrow in amusement, and extended his hand.

"Very well, then. If you have such faith in your magic, why don't you test it against me? Come on, I promise I won't even hit you." For a moment Dan seemed uncharacteristically uncertain, then he shook his head in mock-disbelief and climbed up onto the stage to join Waffles.

"There we go! Right. Standard starting distance is about four metres from each other, there we go, okay. On your count, feel free to start casting. If you can hit, me, you win a cookie." Waffles drew his wand. "Don't worry. I'll only be using this to block. I promise I won't actually duel you, either. Are you ready?" Dan nodded, looking a little confused but determined nonetheless. "Whenever you're ready, then."

Silently, Dan stepped into his usual upright, side-on stance, then began to count.

"One... Two... _Three! Stupefy!_"

The stunning spell didn't even some close to landing. Before Dan had even had time to begin his second incantation, the demonstration was over. Wordlessly, the others stared in shock at the scene before them.

Dan, towering, powerful Dan, who easily outweighed Waffles by at least eighty pounds, lay pinned on his back, his own wand being held at his throat by Waffles, who had sheathed his own and was using his spare hand to restrain one of Dan's (the other was pinned under Waffles' knee). Waffles flashed him a grin before springing to his feet and helping his up.

"And that, everyone, is how you win a duel without casting a single spell. It's true that magic is a lot more effective than fists, but allow someone who knows how to use their hands the opportunity to get close enough, and you'll find that your ability to use magic is somewhat hindered by the fact that they have your wand."

After glancing around to ensure the reality of what had just occurred had properly sunk in, Waffles returned Dan's wand and loudly clapped his hands together, causing the others to jump out of their stunned states.

"Well then, let's not just stand here gaping – it's practice time!"

-SCENE THREE-

**May 8, 1984. 10:00 p.m.**

A little over two hours passed before Waffles was satisfied enough with the group's progress that he called them to stop. Tired and sore, they staggered over to the ring of chairs they so fondly remembered from earlier that evening (though by now they were all so delirious from exhaustion that that memory seemed more like a half-remembered dream) and collapsed into seven ragged, sweaty heaps. Waffles, of course, remained standing. Bizarrely, while even a few minutes' continuous spell casting left him breathless and shaking, he could endure hour after hour of physical combat which would have anyone else performing a very convincing cadaver impression and still be bursting with energy. He had often tried to explain that while there wasn't an awful lot of magic in his blood, that had no effect on his physical fitness. Sadly, this being the Wizarding world, the majority of people found this explanation even more confusing than the phenomenon itself. Nowadays, he just told people he drank a lot of experimental potions – which was true enough, though that mostly affected his strength, speed and bone density rather than his endurance.

"Well, I feel like that was a fairly productive training session! How about you guys?" A groan of agony and exasperation was the response he both received and, come to think of it, deserved. However, his mood was unabashed.

"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad! We just went over the basics – which are really important! I know drilling the same few basic techniques over and over isn't the most riveting of activities, but it's the fastest way to really get these moves down. Plus now, if we're sparring and I try the trick I caught Dan with earlier, you'll all be ready for it!"

"Yay," Chipped in Michaelangelo sarcastically. "Maybe next week we can practice Spinning Bird Kicks. Seriously, bro, this is all great but it's gonna take us so long to learn anything useful that we might as well just stick to what we do best."

"WRONG!" Waffles roared, causing everyone to jump, then glare at him in unison for forcing them to waste precious energy.

"You forget that when this club first started all anyone used was stunning spells, jelly-leg jinxes and befuddlement charms. The style with which we fight has been revolutionised time and time again, to such an extent that it hardly seems prudent to even call what we did at the start "duelling". Every time someone came up with a new concept we would all dive right on it because we knew that whoever mastered it first would have a massive advantage over everyone else until they caught up. And now you're telling me that you don't need to learn anything new?_ Please. _Trust me, this _is_ the future of duelling. Just as surely as spell-amplifiers are going to fade out of competitive duelling, so too are physical fighting styles going to become a powerful force."

"You know, as painful as this has been, I think he could be right," croaked Alicia. "Think about it. Nowadays the old-fashioned duelling style of throwing up a shield, performing all your powerful incantations then throwing everything at your opponent and hoping that your spells are stronger than theirs is completely obsolete. Duellists are getting physically closer to make it more and more difficult for their opponents to react in time to counter their spells. Usually if you're being outspelled by your opponent the instinct is to step back to give yourself some breathing room, but what if instead you stepped _forward?_ I know that before today I'd have been completely at a loss as to how to deal with something like that." There was a reluctant murmur of agreement from the others, with Michaelangelo eventually giving in as well.

"I suppose landing a Spinning Bird Kick in a duel would be pretty cool", he said grudgingly.

"Wonderful! So shall we say... Same time tomorrow? Just to discuss strategy, of course!" He added quickly, before the protests began. "Don't worry, I don't expect you to do _this_ two nights in a row. That would be mad even for me!" He waited for the sighs of relief to abate before continuing, "Right! Well, I think that's more than enough for one day. I'm off to the Prefects' bathroom for some well-deserved R&R if anyone would like to join me; apparently they've added another tap with a pretty decent revitalisation draught to the hot tub, which sounds like it could be just the thing for tonight!" While talking, he reached behind him and pulled open a large mahogany wardrobe which was, of course, filled with new bathing suits. The Room of Requirement had yet to fail the group, and it was not about to start now. "Grab a suit if you're coming and, if not, goodnight - and I shall see you tomorrow!" With that, he deftly unhooked a pair of orange & black swim-shorts and walked out.

-SCENE FOUR-

"So what exactly is your plan for Saturday? So far today we've mostly just been learning Muggle-style fighting, and I can't see that being much help in a formal duel, particularly in an arena like the Quiddich pitch," asked Alicia, after the taps had finished running the obscenely oversized pool incomprehensibly referred to by the administration as a "bath".

"Well," began Waffles, leaning back against the backrest which lined the edge of the pool and crossing his hands behind his head in the most stereotypically relaxed pose imaginable, "It's definitely not going to be easy. After all, Slinkhard is arguably the most powerful wizard in the school – bar the Headmaster, of course." There was a murmur of grudging acceptance at this from the now reduced group (a number of members had returned to their dormitories to sleep, catch up on homework or avoid the possibility of detention if they were discovered. It was, after all, considerably later than the usual nine o'clock bedtime for students and not everyone was in the convenient position of being a school prefect. Now only Waffles, Alicia and Michaelangelo remained to enjoy the rejuvenating effects of the Prefects' spa (calling it a bathroom seemed silly to everyone who had actually seen its interior.))

"So of course he'll be at a massive advantage as far as general spellcasting goes. As you all know, witches and wizards are capable of using magic because of the magic in our blood. The more saturated our blood is with magic, the more we can do with it. Everyone knows that much. But the rest is a little more complicated. Early magic users quickly realized that their powers were far too unreliable and uncontrollable to be practical. In its raw form, magic can only really act upon a single thought or emotion – which makes performing very specific tasks very difficult indeed. For example, it's easy to think "_Stop that bus_", when one is about to be run over. It's a lot harder to think "_stop that bus _gradually_ so as to ensure that it doesn't hit me but preferably without all of the passengers being instantly killed by an astronomical opposing force"._ Fortuitously, it was soon discovered that vibrations at certain frequencies caused the magic in their blood to have behave in different ways, sometimes even temporarily obtaining different properties. This subsequently led to the invention of incantations (interestingly enough, almost the entire Latin language was formed through the discovery of magic-controlling words and phrases). Of course, soon after that people realized that other creatures had magic in their blood as well and started putting the more magic-rich parts of them into wooden funnels, through which spells could be channelled and both amplified and further controlled. We know these handy little instruments as _wands_. As wands started being used, people realized that certain wand motions could cause spells to change in different ways - becoming more potent by drawing on magical energy in the surroundings, changing direction, and so on, and so we arrive at the present day."

"That's all very interesting – especially the bit about Latin; I'd never heard that before –" Alicia stopped herself, shaking her head for a moment, "But where does Slinkhard fit into all this?"

"Fear not!" Waffles exclaimed, "I'm coming to that. So, we know now why wands, incantations and wand motion are important. But now we come to the key part. All spells require a certain amount of magic to be drawn from the blood of the caster and released into the world, either through a wand or otherwise. The amount of effort this requires depends how much of the latent atmospheric magic the user can draw on through the usage of spell-amplifiers, wand motion and incantations. However, the more powerful the caster, the less help they need from these. That's why Slinkhard makes difficult spells look so easy. Because he has so much magic in his blood that for him they_ are_ easy. He doesn't have to worry about amplifiers, getting the wand motion right or even wording the spells perfectly. He can more or less just will the world to change and watch bemusedly as those changes unfold. Moreover, from what we've seen from him in the duelling club marathons we've had in the past, he won't run out of magic for a very long time. The guy's a beast; even his basic spells are thrice as powerful than they should be. So that, ladies and gents, is what I'm up against. That is my conundrum. Oh, and high magic concentrations in one's blood bestows a passively increased resilience to spells as well – so he can shrug off hexes and charms that would completely incapacitate you or I."

The room was quiet for a moment, then Michaelangelo asked,

"So why challenge him? I mean, he sounds pretty unstoppable – and from what we've seen, he really is. Why even bother with it, if he's so much more powerful than the rest of us?"

Waffles smiled at him wryly.

"I was hoping you'd ask me that. Why indeed? Why bother duelling an opponent so much more powerful than myself, when the oddly of emerging victorious are so slim? Quite simply, because I have to. Because of everything in the world there is nothing I desire more than to retire to bed each night a better wizard than I was when I awoke, and I know that the fastest way for me to achieve that is to fight the most powerful opponents I can find. My theory was that by challenging the most difficult opponent available I would force myself to work harder than ever, to learn and adapt in ways that I had never even considered. I was right. In the last few days, I have learned things that have led me to begin evolving my entire duelling style. It'll take me a day or so to completely figure it all out, but I'll be ready to test it on Thursday, when we meet up again for training – which now that I think of it means that we probably won't be able to continue our hand-to-hand training until Monday - what a shame. Oh well. I daresay everyone will be grateful for the reprieve. Personally, I think that if everyone spent a few minutes in this place they'd be ready to go another round in minutes." As he said this, he shut his eyes and allowed himself to lose himself for a moment in the blissful tranquillity brought on by the various fragrant potions that fortified the steaming water.

"Cryptic as always. Still, it sounds interesting, bro. I'll look forward to seeing it. Right now, though, I think I'm gonna go hit the hay. Catch you guys later!" With that, Michaelangelo sprang out of the pool – causing the maximum possible amount of flooding as he did so – threw on the pinkest, fluffiest bathrobe he could find from the rack by the door, collected his wand and robes and exited the spa, leaving Waffles and Alicia alone.

"Okay, spill." Waffles raised an eyebrow at Alicia quizzically as she continued,

"What _is_ your plan for Saturday? I know you've got something specific up your sleeve, otherwise you wouldn't be this confident. What are you planning, Waffles?"

"Careful, now. You almost sound concerned." Waffles said.

"I just don't want you to do something stupid to the point of getting yourself hurt. I worry about you sometimes, you know." Her tone was soft, scarcely above a whisper. Waffles smiled equally softly, leaning towards her.  
"I know. Just as I worry about you. All of you. That's why I do all of the crazy things that I do. So no one else has to. Because if I'm trying out a new spell counter and end up getting my wand blown up and embedded in me then that's fine, because I've consumed enough fortifying potions and trained my body to the point that I can weather that and live. And then I can come back to the group and say "Well, _this_ _Avada Kedavra _defense doesn't work all that well but it's better than nothing! I'd suggest just getting in close and pinning their wand hand, though.""

"So that's why you picked now to start teaching us that Muggle fighting? Because you can't think of a defence to _Avada Kedavra_? Waffles, no one has _ever_ survived that curse before. No one expects you to come up with a defence now. To even attempt something like that is insane."

"Precisely. But then, if _I_ don't attempt the insane, who will? I swore the day this war started that I would never allow any of my friends to be harmed because of it. It was a promise to no one, but one that I intend to keep nonetheless."

"That's so much pressure to put on yourself. I had no idea... I guess you're so relaxed and carefree all of the time we all – I assumed that you never really thought about serious stuff like that. I mean, I knew that you were serious about self-defence, but not like this..." Alicia stopped, lowering her head.There was so much to take in, so much to re-evaluate. She didn't know where to start.

"I'm sorry. I never should have brought it up. I didn't mean to worry you."

Alicia looked back up at Waffles and took his hand.

"Worry me?" She choked, "you... You apologise too much."

Waffles opened his mouth to apologise for apologising too much, then thought better of it. Smiling, he instead replied,

"Thank you - for understanding. I know I can be a little crazy sometimes, so I really appreciate you putting up with it. The truth is I never actually realised how serious things had gotten out there until I fought those Death Eaters. I expect I come across as being confident and strong in training because that's how I want to feel, but honestly... It terrified me. Knowing just how close I came, feeling so helpless..."

"-Stop. Please. You're here, and you're okay, and we're all growing stronger by the day. That's all that matters." She squeezed his hand gently. "Remember, we care about you just as much as you care about us. Don't think that we won't protect you too, if it comes to it." Waffles smiled at that, and nodded to himself.

"Well, good luck finding anything I can't take on myself. You know I can dual cast spells with both wands now, right?" Alicia laughed. Waffles was clearly back to normal.

"Wow, four spells at once. Slinkhard won't know what hit him."

"Indeed he won't. But not for that reason." Alicia cocked her head quizzically as he carried on,, "The technique is called Blink-Walking. That's all you're getting for now." He waved away her protests apologetically, continuing, "It's a very long story, and I want everyone to hear it. It's going to be hard to explain, though."

"What is?"

"That only I can use this technique." Waffles said. There was a sense of finality to it, and Alicia knew that this was not Waffles' opinion. He had stated it so bluntly that it could only be a fact – Waffles was rarely wrong about things like this. She considered pressing him for more details, but thought better of it. Instead, she settled for resting her battle-weary head on his shoulder and closing her eyes, surrendering to the calming, soporific effects of the delightfully warm, potion-infused water.

_**Fin.**_

Well. That was... Long. How long _has_ it been, anyway? Two years? Three? Apologies for that. I've been busy. Honestly I could have uploaded this a year ago but I'd planned on getting the duel out of the way in this chapter. However, I just did a word count and it's quite literally _over 9000_ so I think I'll save that for the next one.

Thank you for your patience with me, both for taking so long to get this done and uploaded and for not continuing with the main narrative – honestly I'm finding this little side-arc more interesting right now so I'm going to stick with it for a short while, if it's all the same to you. My intention is to write a spin-off in the pure HP section about the adventures of Waffles, Alicia and co. I'll get around to it at some point. Probably.

However, that won't be too soon since I've recently taken on another project! I am... Drumroll please...

…

WRITING A PLAY!

Well, co-writing. After performing a version of Sherlock Holmes, a Drama in Four Acts set in an alternate universe in which John Watson is Joanna Watson, we decided it would be irresponsible of us not to give out wonderfully reinvented character a backstory. I am co-writing this piece with the good doctor herself, the lovely and talented – do check out her page; in particular the remarkably well-done Doctor Who screenplay.

So that's what I've been up to lately (well, that and a Psychology degree, a vicious training regimen (I'm determined to become as Waffles-esque as possible before this story is done) and a _lot_ of theatre. So much theatre.) Hope you're all well and that you're enjoying the story so far – and if so, please do review! It lets me know what I'm doing well, and what I still need to work on – and ultimately improves the quality of future instalments! Yay!

All the best,

-Seb/Gem/Origami (yes, I took a new name. So sue me.)

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